PARTNERS FOR LIFE 



AN ORIGINAL COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



BY 



HENRY J. BYRON 



New American Edition, Correctly Reprinted from the Ori- 
ginal Authorized Acting Edition, with the Original 
Cast of the Characters, Synopsis of Incidents, 
Time of Representation, Description of the 
Costumes, Scene and Property Plots, Dia- 
grams of the Stage Settings, Sides of 
Entrance and Exit, Relative Posi- 
tions of the Performers, Expla- 
nation of the Stage Direc- 
tions, etc., and all of 
the Stage Business. 



Copyright, 1889, by Harold Roorbach. 







141889 "' 



NEW YORK 

HAROLD ROORBACH 

PUBLISHER 




PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



First performed at the Globe Theatre, London, October 7th, 187 1. 

Mr. Horace Mervyn [a country gentleman) Mr. David Fisher 

Tom Gilroy (his cousin , at the bar) Mr. H. J. Montague 

Ml'GGLES (his confidential servant) Mr. H. Compton 

Sir Archibald Drelincourt (a philanthropist). . .Mr. E. W. Garden 

Major Billiter (on half -pay) Mr. Flockton 

Ernest (Mervyn' s nephew) Mr. C. Sugden 

Goppinger (from the colonies) Mr. A. Tempest 

Emily Mervyn (a young cousin of Mr. Mervyn 1 s). .Miss F. Josephs 

Fanny Sm ith (her old schoolfellow) Miss C. Addison 

Miss PRISCILLA (Mervyn" s sister) Miss S. Larkin 

Darbyshire (her maid) Miss Harrison 

Time of Representation — Two Hours. 
SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Emily Mervyn is whimsical and jealous ; her cousin Ernest sarcastic 
and tantalizing. By the capricious will of a deceased uncle, they must 
marry or forfeit his estate. Though fond of each other they wrangle 
continually, and are in the midst of a furious quarrel when Mr. Horace 
Mervyn and his sister, Miss Priscilla, appear engaged in a little dispute 
of their own. Mr. Mervyn is a well-preserved elderly gentleman with an 
ardent fancy for Fanny Smith, a friend of Emily's' visiting his house, 
very positive in manner, but unaccountably under the thumb of his 
butler Muggles, an insolent scoundrel who persecutes his employer by 
the exercise of some secret power. Miss Priscilla, a maiden lady of 
46. addicted to parrots and disapproval of Fanny, annoys her brother 
with derogatory observations about their young guest, when brother and 
sister are interrupted by the entrance of their cousin Tom Gilroy, a 
rising barrister, likewise the victim of an eccentric will since he cannot 
marry before a certain age without Mervyn \s consent, except on pain of 
forfeiting his inheritance. He is followed by MUGGLKS with letters for 
him, among which is an anonymous warning to "keep his eye on Mug- 
gles." Then arrive two other guests — Drelincourt, a sham philan- 
thropist, and Major Billiter. a swaggering officer on half pay — both 
suitors to Miss Priscilla, or rather her property. Meanwhile Ernest 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 3 

and Emily have excited each other's jealousy, she hy expressing interest 
in Gilroy to whom Miss Priscilla is secretly attached, he by persistent 
attentions to Fanny Smith, whereby he also incurs Mervyn's jealous 
dislike. Just before dinner is announced, Fanny comes in from a ride 
and is introduced. But when Gilroy is presented to her both are over- 
whelmed with the surprise of recognition in spite of their attempts to con- 
ceal it. Muggles makes a note of it, and Miss Priscilla, now assured 
of Fanny's designing ways, resolves to protect dear Tom by hovering 
around him like a butterfly. The guests depart for dinner, leaving Gil- 
roy utterly bewildered at this rencounter with Fanny, who, in fact, is 
his wife. 

Gilroy and Fanny Smith had married five years before, secretly be- 
cause of the absence of Mervyn's consent to their union. They had 
quarreled and separated, however, on the former's discovery that his 
wife had deceived him into believing her penniless, she being in fact a 
rich girl and he a proud man. Now ensues an absurd chain of cross pur- 
poses brought about by the plottings of MuGGLES who hates GlLROY and 
is determined to maintain his mysterious power over Mr. Mervyn. whom 
he worries with certain new and awkward discoveries. GlLROY is trans- 
fixed with the intelligence that Mervyn is bent upon marrying Fanny ; 
Mervyn, prompted by Muggles. settles upon a match between Gilroy 
and Emily which arouses Ernest's jealous fury. Emily imagines a tender- 
ness between Fanny and Gilroy. thereby stirring up Miss Priscilla 
almost to the point of throwing herself into dear Thomas's arms. Miss 
Priscilla sets EMlLY*by the ears in discovering a bond between Fanny 
and Ernest; and Fanny's ire is inflamed by the news of Gilr>>y's im- 
pending engagement to Emily. Major Billiter. meanwhile, has 
bribed Muggles to deliver a written offer of marriage secretly to Miss 
Priscilla . The explosion comes when Ernest furiously charges Gil- 
roy with undermining Emily's affections; but this complication is 
straightened out and the young people's misunderstanding happiV 
adjusted by Gilroy's good offices. The latter no sooner establishes his 
innocence in this quarter, however, than his own wife wrathfully de- 
nounces his supposed attachment for Emily. This precipitates mutual 
explanation and forgiveness, and the long separated pair come raptur- 
ously together, to the utter consternation of the others who appear just 
in time to witness the reconciliation. 

Thwarted and upset in his matrimonial designs. Mr. Mervyn 
is stumped by the collapse of the Kangaroo copper mines and their 
overwhelming dividends, which misfortune is followed by the failure of 
the bank in which Miss Priscilla's money is invested. He appeals in 
vain to Drelincourt for aid. In this embarrassment Miss Priscilla 
shows the ring of true metal and sets a wholesome example of adapting 
themselves to circumstances. Muggles now suggests Miss Smith as 
Mervyn's forlorn hope, but the latter peremptorily "refuses to marry the 
girl for her money. Moreover, some mystery is hinted at which deters 
Mervyn from any marriage whatever, but causes Muggles to urge it 
with persistence to the end that he may get Mervyn more in his power 
than ever. Here Major Billiter comes to offer condolence, but, 
learning with horror that Miss Priscilla is involved in the disaster, 
promptly bribes Muggles to surrender his letter to her, which has not 
been delivered. Ernest and Emily now come in and comfort their 



4 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

cousin with the assurance that they have settled it all and will be married 
forthwith. At this juncture Fanny Smith enters equipped for travelling, 
to take her farewell, it having been intimated that her departure would be 
appreciated because of the unpleasant circumstance of a few hours before. 
After expressing sympathy for her host, she scandalizes him with the intel- 
ligence that she is a married woman; upsets him with the news that Gil. ROY 
has secretly married, and suggests that as this was done without Mer- 
vyn's consent, the latter is legally entitled to GlLROY'S money and so 
can retrieve his own misfortunes — a proposition thatMERVYN indignantly 
refuses to entertain. GlLROY now comes in, is called to account for 
marrying without his guardian's consent and concealing the fact, where- 
upon he questions the hitter's conduct in doing the same. This precipi- 
tates the catastrophe, and one GoPPINGER, just returned from the colonies 
whither he had been transported formerly on MUGGLES' evidence. It 
transpires that Mervyn has actually been married but knows not 
whether his wife be living or dead; that egged on by MUGGLES in a fit of 
soft-heartedness, years before, he had married Goppinger's wife suppos- 
ing her to be a maid; that it was the uncertainty about this marriage 
which had established MUGGLES' long thraldom. To Mervyn's intense 
relief his ex-butler is led off under Goppinger's wing in a state of 
crestfallen collapse, and disappears forever. Then follows the conclud- 
ing surprise that Fanny Smith is Fanny Gilroy, who, feeling her 
property a bar to her domestic happiness, has transferred it all to her 
newly found cousin Mervyn, so that her husband may come back to her 
without the slightest pang of wounded pride. Mervyn places himself 
in their hands, all mysteries are cleared away, a general reconciliation 
ensues, and the Gilroys now assured of future success, commence anew 
as Partners for Life. 

COSTUMES. 

Mervyn. — Short, curly, half- bald gray wig; gray mutton-chop whiskers. 
Sack coat and trousers of same material ; white waistcoat; flower in 
button-hole. Patent leather shoes. 

Gilroy. — Black cutaway coat and waistcoat; light trousers; black 
derby hat. 

MUGGLES. — Black suit; white cravat; brown wig, rather long at the 
back, and brown short side whiskers. 

Ernest. — Tweed sack suit. 

Drelincourt. — Sandy wig and long side whiskers. Black frock 
coat; light trousers; white waistcoat; black silk hat. 

BlLLITER. — Black frock coat buttoned up high; light trousers, with 
straps; gaiters; black stock; black hat. Short iron-gray bald wig; no 
beard. 

GOPPINGER. — Shabby black suit ; soiled collar; black cravat; black 
hat, the worse for wear. Coat buttoned up close, Sandy hair and 
beard. 

E-MILY Mervyn. — Walking costumes. Change for Act III. 

Fanny Smith. -Walking costumes. Change for Act III. 

Miss Priscilla. — House dresses. Change for Act III. Attractive 
old maid style. 

DARBYSHIRE. — Print dress; linen collar and cuffs; white cap and 
apron. No jewelry. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 5 

PROPERTIES. 

ACT I.— Furniture and appointments as per scene-plot. Clock on 
cabinet up R. c. Flowers in stands. Music on piano and music-rack. L. 
Parrot in cage, for Parbyshire. Workbasket and colored wools on 
worktable down R. Three or four letters for Muggles. Eyeglasses for 
Tom. Watch and snuff-box for Mervyn. 

Act II. — Lighted lamp on table behind sofa. Lighted cigarette for 
Tom. Nosegay for Emily. Letter and coin for Billiter. 

Act III. — Furniture as per scene- plot. Busts on bookcases. Writing 
materials on table. Newspaper and letter for Muggles. Lawyers' blue 
bag for Goppinger. 

STAGE SETTINGS. 

Acts I. and II. 



Landscape Backing 




Cnb'wel FlonerStands Piz 



tj Stool - ' 
RackW 



Chair 
"Table 



® 

Ottoman 

Easy-Chair 



Chat 



Door 



* m 

Flower Stand 



ACT III. 



Landscape Backing 




6 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

SCENE PLOT. 

ACTS I AND II. — Fancy chamber boxed in 3 a., backed with landscape 
drop in 4 G. Window c. in flat. Doors R. 2 E. and L. 2 E. Piano and 
stool up L. c. Music rack between piano and door L. Cabinet up r. c. 
Flower stands between window and piano on one side, and window and 
cabinet on the other side. Chair R., above door. Ottoman c. Chairs R. 
C. and L. c. Sofa down k., with small work table in front of it. Flower 
stand and easy chair down 1.. Rugs at doors and window. Curtains and 
cornice at window. Carpet down. 

Note. — In Act II. the small work table is to be shifted behind the sofa, 
and a lighted lamp placed upon it. 

Act III. — Library in 3 G., backed with landscape drop in 4 g. Win- 
dow c, and door L. c. in flat. Doors r. 2 E. and L. 2 E. Fireplace 
and mantel R. c. in flat. Large library table R. C., with arm chair L. 
of it. Bookcases up R. and L. Chairs about stage. Sofa down L. 
Carpet down. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

The player is supposed to face the audience. R. means right; L., left; 
C, center; R. c, right of center; L. c, left of center; D. f., door in 
the flat or scene running across the back of the stage; R. F., right side 
of the flat; L. F., left side of the flat; R. D., right door; L. D., left door; 
c. D., center door; I E., first entrance; 2 E., second entrance; u. E., 
upper entrance; I, 2 or 3 G„ first, second or third grooves ; UP STAGE, 
toward the back; DOWN STAGE, toward the footlights. 
R. R. C. C L. C. L. 

Note.— The text of this play is correctly reprinted from the original 
authorized acting edition, without change. The introductory matter has 
been carefully prepared by an expert, and is the only part of this book 
protected by copyright. 




PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 



ACT I. 

Scene. — A Drawing-room at a country house. — Window c. 
{with curtains) leading upon a small terrace. — The distant 
view, a rich country Landscape. — Garden elegantly laid out ; 
intervening doors R. and L. 2 E. The room to have some- 
thing more substantial about its appearance than the con- 
ventional " Villa," but still not quite a large " ATansiony" 
appearance. Ottoman c. — Piano and Music stool up L. c. — 
Couch R. — Chiffoniers, Chairs, Flower-Stands, &*c. 

Darbyshire enters through window c, carrying a cage with 
a parrot in it. 

Darby, {comes C.) "Pretty Polly" indeed. You never open 
your mouth but you tell an untruth. First place you aren't 
pretty, second place, you arn't a Polly ; leastways, I never heard 
of the male sex being called a Polly. Ugh ! you ugly wretch, 
come along to your mistress, she appreciates you, and you've 
had your morning's warm. Ah, Pd warm you morning and 
evening too, if I had my way. Come along, {going towards 
door R.) 

Enter Emily Mervyn, c./rom R. 

Emily. (L. C.) Where are you going with the bird, Darby- 
shire ? 

Darby. Well, Miss Priscilla says she feels dull, and would like 
a little amusement, so she's sent for her parrot, and I'm takin°- 
him to her in her room. He's thoroughly warmed through now, 
she has him put out on the terrace in the sun for a bit every day, 
until he's regular warmed, miss, 

Emily. Put out on the — 



8 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Darby. Yes, miss, parrots is like men, miss — generally get 
warm when they're "put out." 

Emily. Don't' you try to be clever, Darbyshire, it's dangerous. 

Darby. La, miss, I don't try, it comes natural. Ha ! ha ! 
Father was a wag in his way, miss, you know ; never succeeded 
in consequence. He was always funning and always failing. A 
stupid fellow as took the business after him succeeded wonderful. 
But, oh, I forgot the parrot : come along, sir. 

Exit with the cage, door R. 2 E. 

Emily, {apparently out of temper, sits on ottoman, takes off 
her gloves, hat, &*c). Aunt Priscilla and her parrot indeed! 
nappy enough ; if she is forty-six, or fifty -six, or whatever 
it is. Somewhere a long time off. I wonder what /shall be like 
at forty-six, or sixty-four, or whatever the age is. It don't matter 
much what it is, after thirty. And what will Ernest look like 
then. Why, bald-headed, and he's too proud to try anything to 
bring it back. Bah ! {rises petulantly, flings down her hat 
and crosses to R. C.) 

Enter ERNEST, C. from L. 

Ernest, (half chaffing). Well, have you got over it ? 

Emily, annoyed, in a very quiet voice). Got over what ? 

Ernest, {corning forward, kneeling on ottoman). Little — em — 
little temper vou know. 

Emily. R.'c.) Really I— 

Ernest, quickly). Just so. Perhaps I was wrong in the term. 
Let us say large temper. There ; will that suit you ? 

Emily. Ernest, I — sits on sofa R.) 

Ernest, quickly, but with quietude. There. Yes, admitted. 
It does not suit you. Fine feathers make fine birds, and the fine 
plumage of a precious rage don't suit my simple duck, Emily. 
{goes to her on sofa). An ill temper sits very uneasily upon that 
clear, pale, pretty forehead, Emily ; and if you could see the 
wrinkles that rise only too readily at the command of that vixen 
vexation ; why, you'd think yourself fifty-six if you could only 
look in the glass. 

Emily, rising seriously). I wish I could look in the glass, 
Ernest, I wish I could. 

Ernest. ' half jestingly). Well, what's to prevent you. It won't 
frighten you. 

Emily. That's according to who would be looking into it with 
me. 

Ernest, (stealing his arm round her). Well, if it wasn't Darby- 
shire, who might be doing your hair, it ought in all conscious- 
ness to be me. 

Emily, half nestling towards him). But you'd rather see 
another face there than mine. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 9 

Ernest. Not Darbyshire*s, no. 

Emily. What about Miss Smith ? 

Ernest, 'after a slight pause, releases EMILY — rises indig- 
nantly, walks to L.'j Fanny Smith, good heavens, haven't you 
dropped that yet ? 

Emily, [rising] No ; I wish you would. 

Ernest, {annoyed). I ! I ! 

Emily. There I there ! Don't keep repeating " /," I'm not 
quite a fool. 

Ernest, 'much annoyed). I don't say you are — quite. 

Emily, 'laughs a little hysterically '. 'Ha ! ha ! how clever — 
how like a friend — a cousin — a lover. 

Ernest, turning sharply . A what ? 

Emily. Oh / don't want to tie you down. Go where you 
please — do what you please. Of course our uncles settled we 
were to be man and wife, and you naturally object to the yoke, 
very good — .with a great air of heroism . I — I release you. 

Ernest, annoyed, but chaffingly). Ha ! ha ! You'd have 
made a capital actress. I should advise — 

Emily, [now thoroughly enraged '. }?« wouldn't mind what 
I did. You'd wish me to go out as a governess. 

Ernest. Not at all, because vou'd inevitably "go in " again. 

Emily. Eh? 

Ernest. And not " win." 

Emily. How so, pray ? 

Ernest, (c. Governesses have to teach a lot of things. You 
don't know a lot of things to teach. Governesses have to put up 
with a lot of things. You don't feci disposed to put up with 
anything. Governesses are obliged to conform to the rules of the 
house. You are not inclined to conform to anything but that 
particular whim which takes you at the moment, and which long 
after that moment, Emily, holds you its merest slave. [gives 
the latter part of this with great feeling.) 

Emily, hangs her head slightly — short pause). Perhaps I 
am wrong, Ernest. I am only a woman— a girl — I may be very 
foolish, and — 

Ernest, (going to her^. Emily, we are as it were bound to- 
gether by the capricious will of our uncle which holds over us 
the one great power, monev. I love vou ; you know it. A 
woman always knows when a man loves her. He has about him 
two liars— his lips, two truth tellers — his eyes. You 4* 
love you. my lips have told you so. my eyes have sworn it. Had 
there been great difficulties in the way of our union I should 
have done all that thew and sinew and a faithful heart could have 
done to surmount them. — but. as fate so wills it, there is no 
difficulty, everything is plain, straightforward and prosaic, and 
we (a young romantic pair who think we ought to be separated 



ro PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

by almost impassable gulfs, and legal difficulties, and implacable 
relations), find on the contrary that everything is settled, fixed, 
and arranged for us. We revolt — only natural — very well. 
That being the case, I have no further wish to thwart your 
object, which is apparently Major Billiter, or Sir Archibald 
Drelincourt. 

Emily, (rising enraged). What ! 

Ernest. \quichly). i.xcuse me. You don't mean "what," you 
" which." 

Emily, [breathless). Object 

Ernest. Certainly ; I consider them both " objects." 

Emily. Major JSilliter — a — a — a — 

Ernest, {very quietly). A major. 

Emily. I — I don't even know what a major is, 

Ernest. Neither I should imagine, does Billiter, but he- is one 
; 'hat. 

Emily. And — and Sir Archibald Drelincourt 

Ernest, JJaronet. Corn'-, you know what a baronet is. You 
know what a baronet's wife is. She', called "my lady," and 
she liki 

Emily. I know you're very cruel. Sir Archibald hrelineourt - 

Ernest. Is a philanthropist a benefactor of the human race. 
With tiim everybody is a man and a brother; only n 
younger brother, who gets nothing. He . thi most generous 
man in the world, if you take him upon trust, which o( c< 
one would, for nobody 'd pay for him ; though I'm bound ' 
he'rl let 'em if they offered. , : rfuliy partis 

is Sir Archibald -a— at a distance. \\< likes tl em 
off. Si d the '.'-r: nd uri- 

dens he's m \ 
Emily. He's partial to aunt Priscilla, you I 

the major. She • re. 

Ernest. Her mc of " metal 

more attractive,'' especially with the philanthropic o 

'Mf.p.vy.\-'s^;z'/ I'm / ill-..' voice* heard of* , 

Hmlrj n I propriety f 

think, but young men — 

Ernest. .'. [an* 

rises and goes up v Emily, gees up to vji>/</ 

Huu-.r ' " well-preserved elderly gentleman 

\, an old maid affecting youthful manners. 

Pri«i'. 
you may say what 

Merv. I. it I alwa . 

Prise. You do, and not invariably in the A way. 



P.-iKTXEES FOR LIFE. n 

Merv. I'm my own master here, I believe, at least I try to be 

-not always SO eas_\ either. 

Prise. Your own master your butler Muggles is master here. 
Jl<- seems to me the chief authority. 

Merv. {annoyed Not at all, not at all. Mr. Muggles is an 
old and attached domestic, and a — a — I presume he always 

treats you with respect. 

Prise. (dro Everybody does that. Horace, 

everybody. It' not it would be — would be— 

Merv. Worse for everybody. Just so ; but 1 must request you 
i repeat your foolish remarks concerning Miss Smith, a 
charming voting lady who does us the honor to visit us as 
S tnend. You have annoyed me greatly by your obser- 
vations. 

Prise. M\ ' you mean. I've watched her closely, 

and I'm correct. I'm perfectly correct. 

Merv. Good Heavens ! who ever said you were •:. 

Prise. Pont lie coarse, Horace. Miss Smith is an impostor. 
I 

Merv. Ha ! ha ' has she imposed on : 

Prise. Nobod) ever imposes on "..' / I'm too deep. 

Merv. [drily] You «rr, much. 

Prise. In the first place she pretends she's only twentv-three. 

Merv. Well she doesn't look 

Prise. Ah. you men i the thousand helps to a youth- 

ful appearance women can procure. Why, how old do /"look ? 

Merv. Well a don't press me. 

Ernest. t. C.) "V irdly young, aunt. 

Much more youthful than you or», you know. 

Prise. This . young lady, as you term her, is not the 

- gul you take her for. See now she makes eves at our 

Meiv. I'd sooner see her make eyes than 

Emily, [np K. C.) Hear ! hear '. uncle. I hate people who are 
alw a\ •- 

Brilttl C.) That's true. .'. .deed — you prefer 

continuing . 

Emily. (ft Mint , 
Braeat . g 

Meiv. Friscilla Mervyn, not another word against a lady who 
is accepting the hospitality of Mervyn House. 
PriBC \ 'd whose master is her ardent admirer. 
Meiv Precisely— 1 am so— 1 glory in it. 

Prise. Ha ! ha - in it. 

Ernest * . ( C.I So do 1 ' 

Merv. (turning) You ! 



12 PARTNERS FOR LTFE. 

Emily, (up L. C.) Oh, dear, didn't you know that? (with an 
air of saying something cutting,. I'm going to meet cousin 
Tom — dear Tom. How delighted I shall be to see him. He was 
always devoted to me. 

Ernest. Was he ? 

Emily. Yes, he was. Exit C. and R.) 

Ernest. Phew ! Temper, thy name is Emily ! Of course we 
all — we men at least, admire Miss Smith. 

Merv. a little annoyed) You're a boy, sir, a stripling. You've 
no business to admire anything but boating and cricket, and 
a — all that sort of thing. Now, when a m-n reaches my time 
of life * y 

Ernest, unabashed) Why, uncle, I do believe you're a trifle 
" cut." 

Merv. Cut, did you say, sir ? 

Ernest The least bit gone, you in 

Merv. Cut! Gone! Hang it, sir, don't speak of your uncle as 
if he were a cheese. Save your slang for the ladies — they don't 
mind it ; I do j but then I am, or hope I am a gentleman. Times 
have changed, young man, but in my younger days it was not 
considered desirable to select one's choicest phrases from the 
vocabulary of costermongers. (retires up \^, dignified) 

Ernest. Very pretty sentiment, but won't bear inspection. You 
— yon . better what was in vogue in his younger days, eh, 

aunt ? 

Prise, indignant) Certainly not. You forget my agf:, I 
think. 

Ernest, half aside) Do I ? Ha ! ha ! so do you. 'EMILY 
and Tom GlLROY heard talking and laughing. , 

Merv. Ha, here's Tom Gilroy at last; behind his time, but 
better late than r\f-. up to meet him) 

Enter T m GlLKOY C/rom R., with ElflLY leaning on his 
arm. 

t&H:-. ■ welcome '. 

Tom y.' a Corney, looking splendid. 

>:g forward p. C.J Ha, Priscilla ; no, I must have a cousin's 
; her) Well, Ernest, old man. 'shakes hands 
with him, 

Ernest, up R. c, aside biliously) I wonder if he - 

iooks as if he had. She rt of " kissed " ex- 

about her. 
Prise, 'down v : A figure he has. And 

what a distingui. 

rush into matrirr , young. 

Merv. down :. ^ed to have you 

amongst us again. 



fyt&TMEXS FOR LIFE. 13 

Prise. ,R). That we 1 

Tom ( c\ An J. I'm delighted to be amongst you once more. 

Why. it's ever so ar s .1 was here. How you're grown 

Emily, and ■ gh you mayn't think \C Ah, 

sin Corney. 

Meiv No, no— I— a—] s ,'ning. 

A.11 these legal 
Tom. A- as sir Priscilla, here — 

Merv. Well, hang U 

Tom Yes, sh< a than ever, that comes of 

ssess 1 g figure What 5 say is Never mind 

the face, give me a figure. The latter lasts 

leral. Vnj - ighere? I kn - ...itv is vour 

Merv. Why. yes — that is —a young 

SS :-:-.-iith. 
Tom. (C \ I . ':' ■ the S 

wa cor . titration, muc 
still it's a g 

ssihg bag. 
S M 1 T H. humble, unpi g\ res short- Ties 

of insis 
beneath the - 5 i M 

final F. reall r almost removes 

I 
up the letters s Schm 

one to a s smark. N such a g name 

invented. Jones runs it har,- - :hird, 

but Smith secures the stakes as si 

Meiv 
• 

V>ar. u] He's a fine tall - than / 

am. A run to-seed sort of figun 

iudiced. Miss Smith's s - ss irabe- 

5 she's s 

he mustn't 
Besides 
sent. . - £ got him 

my thun safe— sale as Muggles 

Elite: MUGGLES 

ki . MKRVYN -..rnJsr 

M 

Mu£ N suU U Jki* 1 our thumb. 



T4 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

sir, was you a saying, ha ! ha ! Funny expression that for/0#, 
sir, ain't it. Letters for Mr. Gilroy. {goes up to R. c.) 

Tom {comes down a little, takes them and goes up R. C, open- 
ing them.) 

Merv. {aside, a little agitated). Shall I ever be relieved of 
this persecution ? 

Mug. (a, beside him) An answer's wanted about that oss. 

Merv. {haughtily) That what f 

Mug. Oss. Oss. You ain't a-going deaf, are you, sir ? 

Merv. Oh, horse f 

Mug. Just so. The ^introduction of the "haspirit" don't 
alter the price. Mr. Latimer's coachman and me's old acquaint- 
ances — party by the name of Wogg — and whatever Wogg says, 
/swear to. 

Merv. And what does Wogg say ? 

Mug. Wogg says a hundred-and-thirty. 

Merv. A hundred-and-thirty pounds for that cream-colored 
cob ! 

Mug. Look at the color, so out-of-the-way. 

Merv. Out-of-the-way. So's the price. 

Mug. And its description — Cream Colored Cob — three K's 
altogether. 

Merv. I can't afford it — and I — a — a — I won't .' 

Mug. {with his finger raised) Eh ! 

Merv. {wincing) I say I really z&xxnot afford it. 

Mug. But I've given my word of Aonor to Wogg — I may say 
I'm pledged to Wogg. And though he's a very nice man, and 
he thinks me the same, I'm afraid if I go off the bargain, he's the 
sort of party to sink all pussonal feeling and punch my yead ! 
Turn it over in your mind — hem ! if there's room, {they go up 
L., talking) 

Tom. {iip R. c, aside to Ernest) This is most remarkable 
and ridiculous, {reads from letter) "Keep your eye on 
Muggles." That's the second time since yesterday, I have re- 
ceived this mysterious piece of advice. 

Ernest, (up R.) Excellent counsel. He's an awful scoundrel. 

Tom. How do you know ? 

Ernest. Don't know, only I'm certain. 

Tom. Quite right. Never bother about reasons, always make 
up your mind as you have done. Saves a world of trouble. 
{fixing his glass in his eye, stares hard at MUGGLES) 

Mug. {to Mervyn) I say you're wrong, and if / say you're 
wrong, you are wrong. There. 

Merv. Well, well, well, really I — 

Tom. {up r. C.) I can't pass my entire time here in keeping 
my eye on Muggles. Besides, my other eye might object to it, 
and revenge itself with a chronic squint ; turn against the other 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 15 

in fact ; sort of optical " King's evidence." The small spite of 
some discharged servant, no doubt ; but I'll try my eye on 
Muggles, notwithstanding. It has had its effect at sessions be- 
fore now, and Muggles may be a scoundrel. Why shouldn't he 
be ? Most people are. {looks at Muggles with a searching 
glance.) 

Mug. {in an undertone, almost fiercely, to Mervyn) I say 
I've given my word, and if you don't buy the oss, I shall look 
like a — a — {sees Tom surveying him coolly — he quails — tries to 
continue — breaks down, and slinks off door L. 2 E.) 

Tom. (aside) Yes, my anonymous friend, I will keep my eye 
on Muggles. 

Enter SERVANT, door L. 2 E. 

Serv. (announces) Sir Archibald Drelincourt and Major 
Billiter. 

Enter. Sir Archibald and the Major, door L. 2 e.— Exit 
Servant — General hand-shaking, and introduction of Tom — 
Then exit Mervyn, door l. 2 e. 

Ernest, (down R. c., aside maliciously to EMILY) Now you'll 
be happy. 

Emily, (on sofa R., in the same tone) Oh, I've been so ever 
since dear Tom came. 

Ernest, (scarcely able to contain his annoyance) I shall go 
and meet Fanny Smith, she's sure to drive the pony carriage 
down Ridley's Lane. 

Emily. Do, and give my love to her. 

Ernest, (goes up C, annoyed) 

Emily, (rising and going up to him) And Ernest ! — 

Ernest, (turns quickly) Yes — (Major Billiter^wj and sits 
on sofa with Priscilla) 

Emily, (up L. c.) And your own too, if you like. 

Ernest, (scarcely able to master himself) If you were a man 
I'd talk to you. 

Emily. And if you were one, I'd talk to you ! 

Ernest. Ah ! (dashes out C. and R.) 

Emily. If I didn't like him so much, I'm sure I should hate 
him. (Exit door L. 2 E.) 

Drelin. (coming forward \..c.,with Tom) Oh, yes, Mr. Gilroy 
I shall count on your co-operation. You legal gentlemen have a 
knack of placing matters invitingly before a miscellanous 
audience, and at our meeting you must take the chair — no, 
pardon me, you must. 

Tom. (C.) Oh, I'll take everthing you please. But I must con- 
fess the object of the society see'ms a little foggy. 

Drelin. Foggy, my dear sir ! What ! populating a territory 



1 6 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

in Africa which absurd prejudice has declared unhealthy, simply 
because — 

Tom. Simply because everybody dies who goes there. 

Drelin. Everybody dies who goes everywhere. 

Tom. Unless they come back. 

Drelin. We've a surplus population — good — get rid of thesur- 
plus population. Send it out wholesale to the banks of the 
Bangalora river. The idea prevalent here is that it's unhealthy. 

Tom. Excuse me. Fatal. 

Drelin. Just so. Then my reply is Pooh! That's my reply, 
sir — Pooh ! 

Tom. Concise, but scarcely convincing. 

Drelin. I have a black servant with me, who was born on the 
banks of the Bangalora river ; was reared on the banks of the Ban- 
galora river ; thrived there ; brought up a large family there ; al- 
ways had his health there. Now mark me — That rash negro 
leaves the banks of the Bangalora river, and seeks those of the 
Thames, which, the season being winter, and severe — is partially 
frozen over. What is the result ! {severely) That man catches a 
severe cold on his lungs— he regrets having left his home — he 
pines— he sinks — and he costs me a pretty doctor's bill. Now 
Mr. Gilroy, I say that facts are stubborn things, and my expiring 
black servant says, he considers Bangalora healthier than Eng- 
land, and as he was born there, I think he ought to know. 

Prise. Poor creature, I should like to send him some arrow- 
root or sago, or something. 

Tom. Certainly your anecdote goes to support your theory. 

Drelin. Theory? Call it theory if you like, I believe in theory. 

Tom. I'm a lawyer, and prefer practice. 

Major, [who has been talking to Priscilla on sofa, R.) By 
Jove, ma'am, I could have cut him down, the scoundrel ! A low 
toll-keeper to tell me I'd given him a bad sixpence. If I'd had 
my sabre, I'd have cut him down, {rises and goes with Pris- 
cilla on terrace C.) 

Drelin. It's all very well to pooh-pooh these charitable ef- 
forts, but I confess I am always thinking of the good of my 
neighbors. 

Tom. For ?ny part, from what I know of the good of my 
neighbors, I confess I don't think much of it. I see, Sir 
Archibald, your philanthropy likes to look a long way off; any- 
body can see after these poor creatures next door. 

Drelin. Just so. I see you understand me. 

Tom. Perfectly. Sort of telescopic charity yours, eh? Dis- 
tance lends enchantment to the view, and that being your view 
you reciprocate the sentiment by only lending to the distance, 
ha ! ha ! 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 17 

Drelin. Ha! ha! Yes, yes. {they go up L. c, laughing and 
talking) 

Prise, (tip C.) Major, doesn't he talk beautifully ? 

Major. (up R. C.) Hang it, ma'am, he's a Barrister ; spouting's 
his trade. He's paid for it. 

Prise. Just as you were for killing people. 

Major. Ha ! ha ! Just so, and by Jove, ma'am, I earned my 
money like a man. 

Prise. Ah, Major, you're a terrible person. 

Major. So the enemy thought, ma'am, I assure you. (they 
come forward R.) 

Enter Mervyn and Emily, door L. 2 E. 

Merv. (L. c.) Now, Tom, you needn't bother about putting 
yourself into evening clothes to-day. We're primitive people 
here, and are consequently polite; no such complete gentleman 
as your thorough savage — eh, Drelincourt? Ha ! ha ! — So we've 
ordered dinner early, thinking you'd be hungry and tired after 
your journey. (looks at his watch) Jove, it's past the time. 
(laughter heard offR. U. E.) Ha ! that's our fair guest, I'll 
swear to the ring of that laugh. 

Prise, (down R., aside) So will I — a designing minx. 

Enter MISS SMITH on Ernest's arm, C, from R. ; they are 
laughing and talking. 

Fanny, (coming down C.) Oh, how absurd you are, Ernest, 
how very absurd. 

Emily. (L., aside) Calls him Ernest already. I wish I'd never 
asked her here. 

Fanny. I never enjoyed a drive so much in my life — how 
those ponies can go when they choose, and I made them /can 
tell you. Didn't I, Ernest ? 

Ernest, (up R. C.) You did. You managed them like a — 
like a— 

Fanny. Like " anything." Ha! ha! that's the simile for me — 
means nothing, and everyone understands it. {crosses to L. c.) 
Why, Emily, dear, what's the matter— you look about as cheer- 
ful as — what is the matter ? 

Emily, (petulantly turning away) Nothing ! what should he ? 

Fanny, (with an expressive raising of the eyebrows) I hope 
I've not kept the banquet waiting — my watch is so deceptive. 

Merv. (a, to her with old-fashioned gallantry.) The watch 
that could deceive you must— 

Fanny, (laughing) Oh, there, don't pay me any more com- 
pliments — flattery runs in the family — Ernest there's been talk- 
ing the most dreadfully poetical admiration all the way from the 
gate. 



1 8 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Emily, in a great passion which she can scarcely control, 
at Ernest. Has he indeed ! aside) I don't know which I hate 
the most. 

Merv. By the way, I must introduce you to my cousin, he's 
come down for a day or so. Capital company, talk for ever, and 
then begin again. ' Here my boy. (Tom co?nes down R. C.) 
Miss Smith, permit me to introduce my cousin, Mr. Gilroy. 

FANNY has been talking to Emilv. L. — Turns, recognizes TOM 
and starts. — He also starts apparently overwhelmed with 
surprise. — Their movements are observed by PRISCILLA. 
Fanny Tom ! 

Tom. aside) Fanny, by Jove ! 

Enter MUGGLES, door L. 2 E. 

Mug. {up at door Dinner is served. 

Merv. up L. c. to Fanny Permit me. {offers her his arm, 
she takes it mechanically. — they exeunt, door L. 2 E.) 

Prise. (R., aside) They know each other. I was certain she 
was a " madam." But dear Tom shall not be victimized, I will 
hover round him like a butterfly, and protect him. 

Ernest, [comes forward, offers EMILY his arm.) 

Emily. Certainly not. Thank you, Major. {takes the 
Major's arm — they exeunt, door L. 2 E. 

Ernest, [seises Drelincourt by the arm, and drags him off.) 

Tom. {stands R. C. in a state of bewilderment.) 

Prise, sidles up to him.) 

Tom. aside) It can't be .' Fanny ! my wife here ! 

Prise, trying to attract his attention.) He-hem! 

Tom. {aside What's the meaning of it ? 

Prise, (nudging his elbow . He-hem ! Cousin Thomas, (he 
is absorbed in thought, and takes no notice.) Dear Thomas. 
i.) It seems I must go in to dinner by myself then. 
(crossing to door L.) 

Mug. Allow me. (offers his arm — she looks at him indig- 
nantly and exit.) 

Tom. sinks bewildered on Ottoman.— MUGGLES watching 
him as) 

ACT DROP DESCENDS RATHER SLOWLY. 



ACT II. 

Scene, the same as \st Act. 

Enter Meryyn and TOM from door L. 2 E. 

Merv. up R. C.) Weil, now, honestly, Tom — honestly now- 

what do you think of her ? 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. ig 

Tom. Of her ? Of whom ? 

Merv. Bah ! Who should I mean but Miss Smith. Fanny — 
our visitor, Emily's old schoolfellow. 

Tom. L. C.) There can't be two opinions about her. 

Merv. Certainly not ; quite right. Isn't she what you'd call 
rather a — rather a — 

Tom. stolidly . Oh, very much so. 

Merv. Hang- your cold style of agreeing with a man. I give 
you some of my very best claret, and the more you absorb, the 
chillier you become. You lawyer fellows lead such ascetic seinsh 
lives in vour rusty old chambers, that there's no rousing vou. 
Living afone's a mistake, sir, and I'm beginning to find it out. 

Tom. Well, you don't live alone. You can't count Pr 
and Emily as nothing. Then Ernest spends his vacation 5 
and you seem to keep open house for your neighbors. What 
more do you want ? 

Merv. Sympathy — congenial companionship. Ernest and 
Emily have their own tastes and fancies to foilow, and they're 
not mine. Priscilla — well, Priscilla is — 

Tom. Lively company, I'm sure. 

Merv. Too lively Tom ; her friskiness increases with her 
years. She's as good as gold, and adores me ; but a sister's 
adoration may occasionally lapse into boredom. :jard, 

R. C.) 

Tom. Ha. how is it you never married years ago ? 

Merv. 'starting What ! Eh ! 

What do you mean by that ? 

Tom. What I say. 

Merv. Mind what you say, Tom. You barristers have a way 
of blurting out remarks that — that asuL . What the devil am I 
saying ? 

Tom. What a remarkable explosion about nothing at all. 

i 

Merv. As I was saying.- when you interrupted me — my life's 
dull and colorless, sits on . Now. Tom. we're old 

friends — very- old friends — you've been a wild dog, and your 
uncle Bernard knew it. To prevent you ever making a foolish 
marriage, you know he left your matrimonial fate in my hands, 
and vou can never marry without my express sanction. If you 
do, you'll forfeit vour little fortune. And I'm an inexorable dog. 
Ha ! ha ! 

Tom. (sitting on ottoman^. Uncle Bernard was a confirmed 
old bachelor, and as such should be pitied, if not despised. 

Merv. ..;.-: . Tnat's what / say ; a man should mam - . 
Even — even if the act should cause him any serious inconvenience, 
loss or — or — 

Tom. 'guickly). Just so ; my sentiment- 



20 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Merv. Now, though you've been a slap-dash sort of chap, I 
think highly of your opinion, matured as it has been by experience 
and knowledge of the world. 

Tom. Yes, I've seen a little. 

Merv. Just so ; and the last thing you've seen — the most recent 
fart you've noticed — eh. (playfully lapping him on the chest 
then sitting back to watch the effect of his words) 

Tom. [reflectively) Well — a— really I can't say — I exactly — 

Merv. I observed your eye at dinner ; you can't deceive mc; 
you never took it off her. You ate nothing — you drank a good 
deal — the more you took, the more stolid you became — you were 
glum, actually glum. Major Billiter who's next door but one to 
a chimpanzee at conversation as a rule, shone like a Theodore 
Hook beside you. Tom, you — you have guessed my secret. 
(turning aside half bashfully.) 

Tom. (aside) I wonder if he's often like this. 

Merv. I admit it — I'm not ashamed of it. Thomas, I love her ! 

Tom. What ! 

Merv. I love Fanny Smith, as I don't believe any man loved 
before, (rises, takes R.) 

Tom. Phew ! (sits back.) 

Merv. (r. C.) It's not surprising, is it ? 

Tom. A — a little startling at the moment. 

Merv. Don't you admire her ? 

Tom. Immensely. 

Merv. Isn't she accomplished ? 

Tom. Plays and sings, draws and rides, can act charades, and 
waltz better than any woman in England, (rises, takes L.) 

Merv. (astonished) How do you know that ? 

Tom. (a little confused) Well, I should fancy she could. 
She's a sort of Admirable-Crichtonish appearance, as if she could 
do anything — (aside) — except keep her temper. 

Merv. You've hit it exactly. She's simply perfection, and, 
come now, don't you think she'd make me a delightful wife ? 

Tom. Well — a — (aside) I've gone through a good deal in my 
day, but this is a capper to a career of surprises, and no mistake. 

Merv. Can you — evenyou, you supercilious rascal you — come, 
can you find a single objection to her? 

Tom. Only one. 

Merv. Let's have it, sir, ha ! ha ! let's have it. 

Tom. Well, she's too young. 

Merv. Oh, but she'll grow older. 

Tom. Yes, so'W you. 

Merv. (irritated) I'm aware of it, sir, I'm aware of it — It re- 
quires no ghost from Brick Court Temple, to tell us that. 

Tom. Why, you're old enough to be her father, — very much 
her father. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 21 

Merv. Who said I wasn't, sir ? I'm not ashamed of my age. 

Tom. No; but' she might be. 

Merv.. Never mind, sir. Better be an old man's darling-, 
than a young man's slave. 

Tom. Very good argument for the old man. I'd sooner be the 
slave owner myself. 

Merv. How can a young woman feel any respect for a strip- 
ling only about her own age — or at the best a half a dozen years 
or so older ? It's these lads who rush into matrimony so young, 
who find their mistake out, and suffer for it. Now a man at my 
time of life knows his own mind, and — 

Tom. Excuse me, doesn't the argument also apply to the 
woman ? If it does, your wife should be a mature lady, who— 

Merv. (in a rage) I won't have a mature lady ; I don't ad- 
mire mature ladies, I like youth, beauty, freshness, girlish in- 
nocence, grace, artlessness — damme, sir, don't dictate to me 
about whom I should marry. 

Tom. Why not ; You've the power to dictate to me. That 
stupid will — 

Merv. Hang it, sir, marry whom you like. 

Tom. (quickly) Do you mean that ? 

Merv. Anybody in the world, sir, except — (recovering his 
good humor). Ha ! ha ! Fanny Smith, my boy. Come, come, 
don't look so blank. You think I ought to marry an old woman, 
and I prefer to marry a. young one. Ha ! ha ! that's all. May 
the difference of a partner never alter cousinship. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
(shakes hands very cordially with Tom, and exit, C. arid L.) 

Tom. In addition to keeping my eye on Muggles, I now have 
to keep my eye on Mervyn — to say nothing of Fanny, that's 
three people to two eyes. There's one thing certain, he can't 
marry her. Bigamy's beyond even her bold spirit, (with some 
feeling). Besides she can't quite have forgotten everything. It's 
not so very long since after all. (sighs). Hah ! I wish I could 
see the conclusion of this case. (Exit R. door — as he does so) 

Enter MUGGLES slowly, door L. 2 E., having been watching, 
and Mervyn c./rom l. — they meet. 

Merv. (down R. C.) Ha, Muggles, you there ? 

Mug. (L. C.) The ladies is /zenjoying of the /zair, and the 
Major's a snoring 'ard in the /zeasy chair. As I heer a party with 
black ringlets and a 'orse pistol say once at the Surry, " Ha! 
ha ! we har /zalone." 

Merv. Muggles ! 

Mug. The viper have glided off. 

Merv. Viper ! Muggles. 

Mug. By which term I denomiate T. Gilroy, Esquire, Bar- 
rister at Lor. 



22 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Merv. What do you mean ? 

Mug. You must get rid on him. He won't do here ; he's art- 
ful and designing, and he'll get round you ; and I ain't a-going 
to permit nobody to get round you, whilst I'm by. 

Merv. Really I — 

Mug. It's no good your trying to conceal nothing from me. 
You're smit, that's what you are. 

Merv. Smit ! 

Mug. Cupid's taken a /zaim at your 'art and he's 'it it. You 
was always of a susceptible nature, nobody knows that better 
than me. Eh, guv'nor ? recollect when we — 

Merv. (in an agony oj fear). Hush ! hush ; 

Mug. Ha, them was days when, as the poet has it, (sings 
lugubriously.) 

When we was boys, 
Jolly, jolly boys, 
When we was boys — 

Merv. (in great perturbation) Oh, hush, pray ! 

Mug. {under his breath) " Together." 

Merv. How can you continually torture me by referring to 
events of long ago ? Why don't you relieve me of your presence ? 
I'll settle anything in reason on you, as I've often told you. You 
might set up in business, and be independent in no time. 

Mug. Ha, take a public 'ouse. They're obliged to be kep' too 
respectable now a days to soot me. Your modern licensed 
wittier seems to me to pass his time in shuttin' up and gettin' 
fined. No ; I prefer servitoode. By going away I might lie- 
come my own master, but in remaining — 

Merv. You continue mine. Is that it ? 

Mug. That's an onpleasant way of puttin' it, but we won't 
split 'airs. Now, you can't gammon a faithful old servant — this 
here Mr. Gilroy's fell in love with Miss Hess. 

Merv. What! 

Mug. And you've /^observed it. 

Merv. Certainly not — I saw nothing of the sort. 

Mug. Sorry for it. The mole is not a domestic //animal, and 
it's Sunwise to //imitate him in the family succle. You ain't 
blind nat'rally. / watched my friend, and his symptoms is 
" spoons." 

Merv. (getting interested). No, Muggles ; do you really 
think so ? (aside). Why not ? She'd fascinate anybody, (to 
MUG.) What proof have you that— 

Mug. As a rule, I don't know a more commanding twist than 
that Mr. Gilroy have. But to-day ! and after a journey too. 
Soup sent away untouched — fish differ — hontrays do. — I sus- 
pected him over the first course, but when he actually come to 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 23 

refusing of his salary — the temptingest thing as is — says I, 
"Thomas Gilroy," says I, "you're over 'ed and ears in love with 
that young woman," says I, "and all the deeper cos it's sudden 
and hinstantaneous." 

Merv. Now you mention it, certainly every time I looked at 
him, he — 

Mug. Was a looking at 'er. Why he yung upon her every 
syllable. She too see the impression she made, and — 

Merv. (fdgelly) No, no ; do you really think so ? 

Mug. Do you suppose every woman don't know when she's 
landed another wictim ? Whenever she looked at him it was with 
a kind of '" 1 don't see you" glance as maddened him, for he bit 
at his bread quite furous once or twice, and kicked old Billiter 
on the shin by accident on purpose, and never begged his par- 
don. They'll make a match of it, them two. 

Merv. (in a rage) Never ! Ha, ha ! I've got my young 
friend there anyhow. If he marries without my leave he's a 
pauper. 

Mug. Bosh. 

Merv. (turning indignantly) What, sir ! 

Mug. Not 'aving any other ^observation 'andy, I can only 
repeat, "Bosh." 

Merv. You should be more careful in your remarks. 

Mug. So should you. What's money to a man like 'im ? Ain't 
he making his way at the bar ? Don't he write Particles in the 
noospapers and maggcrzines ? Yes, and gets paid for 'em too. 
Besides she herselTain't — 

Merv. (softened) True, true. I beg your pardon, Muggles. 
I was carried away by my temper. But what can I do ? 

Mug. Make him marry Miss //emily, or else kick 'im hout. 
There you are. There's Muggle's sentiments in a nutshell. 

Merv. What ! eh ? 

Mug. Verb — sap — a nod's as good as a wink to a blind 'oss. 
Somebody's a coming, so I dror in my yorns. If he marries 
one, he can't marry t'other — he ain't likely to run the risk of 
big_a 

Merv. (furiously , starting) Silence, man ! A subject like 
that, you know, is one which— which 

Mug. fust so. (aside) It's all right ; I've set the train all 
reg-'lar, and the blow ^up in the Miller and his Men was a hin- 
nocent flash compared to the "bust" as is looming in the future. 

(Exit door L. 2 E). 

Merv. (alone) He's right — the scoundrel always is right. I 
was a fool to ask Tom down whilst she was here — I can't pack 
him off. She doesn't seem inclined to go, and if she did I couldn't 
let her. (crosses to L.) Ernest's fond of Emily. Pooh ! a boy who 



24 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

ought to be at school still. It's a bold notion — all that vagabond's 
are. I — 

Enter Tom and Emily, door r. 2 e. 

Emily, (comes C.) Come, Tom, you were smitten with her — 
own it now, like a man. (places a flower in Tom's buttonhole). 

Tom. (L. C.) Well, have it your own way. Convincing argu- 
ments with a pretty girl are like facts with a Welsh jury, they 
rather tell against you. 

Emily. Her manners are very fascinating at first. 

Enter Priscilla, door R. 2 E. 

Tom. Don't the fascination last, then ? Does it wear out like 
electro gilt, and discover the sham foundation, eh ? 

Pris. (L. C.) Some kind of gilt never wears out. 

Tom. Ha, that's when one adds it to it. 

Merv. (up L. C.) Ha, ha, ha ! 

Emily. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Pris. (highly annoyed) I don't see anything humorous about 
it myself. The way Miss Smith goes on is simply offensive. 
She's got hold of Ernest, and is actually inducing him to swing 
her. 

Emily. It's monstrous ! shameful ! 

Pris. It's really glaring ! (they go up and look off C. and R.) 

Tom. Yes, and it's so soon after dinner. 

Merv. (aside) I'll do it — I'll strike whilst the iron's hot. I can 
but fail. Hem. (comes forward L. C.) Tom. 

Tom (C.) Yes. 

Merv. (indicating Emily) I say, Tom, my boy, she's rather 
an attractive, fascinating sort of woman, eh ? Eh, Tom ? (nudg- 
ing him). 

Tom. (after looking obtusely) Which ? 

Merv. (disgusted) Oh, hang it, save your small jokes for the 
Old Bailey, or the Bar mess. Which should you choose, you 
noodle ? Not the old one, thank you. Unless you prefer it. 

Tom. What do you mean ? (aside) I never knew there was 
lunacy in the family before. 

Merv. A man should certainly marry, as you said some time 
back— a professional man especially. Emily's got a pretty little 
fortune — not very much, but a backbone; and what is a barrister 
without a backbone ? 

Tom. Can't say — I never saw one. At least, not to my knowl- 
edge. 

Merv. Oh, you know what I mean. 

Tom. Yes, yes ; something to fall back upon. 

Merv. Just so. A fellow with an independence, a certainty — 
however small — possesses an immeasurable advantage over the 
mere struggler for his bread. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 25 

Tom. But to be dependent for that certainty on one's wife ? 

Merv. Go along ! she's fond of you — always was. Her man- 
ner shows it. (pointing to flower in Tom's buttonhole.) 

Tom. {aside, dismayed) By George, so it does. 

Merv. /shan't stand in your way — she's yours. 

Tom. But really I — 

Merv. Not a word, I insist. 

Tom. But I've never said a word that could 

Merv. (wringing his hand) I'll answer for her — there'll be 
no difficulty. 

Tom. (aside) How on earth can I. 

Merv. She's young— you are young. 

Tom. (suddenly) Ah, that's just it — we're both young. 

Merv. All the better. As it ought to be — both of an age, or 
nearly so — the husband a few years — half-a-dozen or so older, 
but not more, certainly not more. 

Emily, (up at piano L. C, looking over music — to PRIS.) 
What on earth are they talking so excitedly about ? 

Prise, (to her) Let's listen, dear — it's a woman's prerogative. 
Talking and listening are conceded to us as our fcex's rights ; 
and after all, when those two privileges are judiciously com- 
bined, we want very little else. 

Tom. I must say that on reflection your arguments as to the 
respective ages of husband and wife have thoroughly convinced 
me. I think with you that the man should be the older. Very 
much the older. Remember your own words — " how can a 
young woman feel any respect for a stripling," etcetera. 

Merv. Yes ; but you're not a stripling — you're, let me see, you 
must be quite — 

Emily, (comes forward 'L.) What is this animated conversa- 
tion about ? 

Merv. (seizing her hand) About you, my dear — about you 
and Tom here. 

ERNEST appears c./rom L.— pauses and listens. 

Emily. Me and Tom ? 

Merv. Tom's told me all. How is it you've concealed it from 
me so long, eh ? 

Emily. Concealed what f 

Ernest, (up c. aside) What's he saying ? 

Tom. (R. c. aside) If I were only safe in Brick Court, I'd die 
happy. 

Merv. It's only natural. Emily, Tom loves you, as you know, 
and I — 

Emily. Cousin Tom ! loves me ! Oh, it's some mistake. 
Isn't it, Tom ? 



26 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Tom. {nervously) Well, really, I — I — (aside) I wonder 
where my wife is ? 

Pria. {aside) I know very little of dear Tom if he cares to 
link his fortunes with a child like Emily. I could not mistake 
the meaning of his hurried remark to me just now, that he might 
ask me to perform a delicate task some clay — the look and the 
pressure of" the hand told me all — he loves me. 

Merv. Now, sir, here is the clear girl — metaphorically in your 
arms. Do you reject her ? Ask him, Emily, (jtushcs her across 
toe.) 

Emily. (C.) Ask him what? (turns a little, sees Ernest 
at back.) There's Ernest listening — how mean of him. But I'll 
punish my gentleman, (to TOM) Dear Cousin Tom, the posi- 
tion in which I find myself is very awkward. 

Merv. So it is — get closer to him. 

Emily. I didn't mean that. 

Merv. (irritated) You don't know what you mean. You're 
too young to know your own mind. 

Tom. (quickly) That's what / say. She's too young — much 
too young to dream of marrying anybody. 

Emily. Oh, indeed! I dream of nothing else. 

Merv. (to Tom) There you are. Dreams of you — you see. 

Ernest, (aside) I'll bring this to a head, and pretty quickly 
too. If he's been talking rubbish to Emily, I'll — I'll — 

Pris. (coming forward L.) Dear Tom is quite right, Horace ; 
the idea of his marrying Emily ! I blush for you. 

Merv. (in a rage) Go and blush in your own room, then, and 
don't interfere in what doesn't concern you. 

Pria. (aside) " What doesn't concern me." (pressing her 
hand to her heart) Quiet, quiet, little flatterer, (goes up L.) 

Merv. (to Tom) Now I'm a man of few words. 

Tom. (aside) I never knew an inveterate gabbler who didn't 
always say the same. 

Merv. Very few — but those few are to the point. I give you 
both ten minutes. 

Emily goes up R. — Ernest darts away. 

£*■ [What. 

Merv. Ten minutes to give me your reply, (aside) If he can't 
settle it all in that time he must be a noodle, (to Tom) I'm going 
to my study ; make the most of the time I grant you, and 
remember I intend to use the power I possess like a tyrant as I 
am. (Exit door L. 2 E.) 

Tom. (crossing to C. calling after him) I say, Bluebeard, 
listen to reason, (to Pris.) Sister Anne, just intercede, will 
you. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 27 

Emily, (up R. aside) Ernest's sufferings must be something 
awful. I can almost hear him writhe. 

Pris. {coming down L. ^/TOM, in an undertone). Thomas. 

Tom. (at back of ottoman, starts). 

Pris. You despise money. So do I. There is a link that binds 
our sentiments together, and it is not a. golden one. You scorn 
a marriage for money. So do I. Give me a man of intellect — 
one whose battle-cry is brains, not a banking account. You are 
such a man, Thomas, and — well, there, I have said enough, too 
much perhaps — but you will attribute it to my admiration of your 
character — so manly, so unselfish, so — a tear or two will flow — 
excuse me. (wipes her eyes.) 

Tom. (aside) Damn it, here's another of 'em. Well in this 
case I can't say that I'm sorry I am married. 

Pris. (taking Tom's hand) Bless you dearest, Thomas, bless 
you. (Exit door L. 2 E., overcome by her feelings.) 

Tom. (comes c.) How shameful to leave me alone with her, 
really I —(turns L. and finds Ernest pale and determined 
standing before him.) 

Ernest. (L. C.) You'll excuse me, Mr. Gilroy, but you're a 
scoundrel. 

Tom. (c.) I am not a scoundrel, and I don't excuse you. 

Ernest. You're a double dealer, sir. 

Tom. I'm not a dealer at all, single or double, I'm a barrister, 
worse luck, (laughs.) 

Ernest. What do you mean by undermining Emily's affections ? 

Emily, (coming forward R. c.) Ridiculous, Ernest ; he's not 
undermined anything. 

Ernest. Of course you take his part. But I'll not be made a 
fool of any longer. 

Tom. (laughing) Quite right. Then leave off making a fool 
of yourself. 

Ernest. Tom Gilroy, if you were not a relation 

Tom. Oh, waive that and speak out. 

Ernest. Then I tell you to your face that I consider your con- 
duct despicable. You are well aware that I love Emily, that 
Emily loves me. 

Emily. Oh, indeed, I like that. 

Ernest. You said you did, before he came. 

Emily, (much hurl) Go to your Fannys, (takes R.) 

Tom. (with a burst of laughter) His what ! 

Emily. (R. C.) His Fanny Smiths. 

Tom. Ha ! ha ! ha ! this is delicious. 

Ernest, (in a rage) Laugh away, Mr. Gilroy, your profession 
makes you heartless. But I'll have some revenge. I — I — damme, 
I'll call you out ! I'll warrant you're a better shot than /am, but 
I'll try your courage anyhow. 



28 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Tom. Call out a lawyer ! The thing's an impossibility. Besides, 
we should have to go to France or Belgium. 

Ernest. Then we'll go to both. 

Tom. All right. We'll go to France first, and 1*11 shoot you; 
then off to Belgium where you can shoot me. Anything for a 
quiet life. 

Ernest, (quickly) Tom Gilroy, you are turning me into your 
ridicule. 

Tom. (rather gravely) Why, of course I am, you silly boy. 
Now, seriously, do you think I care twopence for Emily ? 

Ernest. Eh ? 

Tom. Or that she cares a farthing for me? 

Ernest. I don't know what to think. Everything seems all j 
wrong, and I know this, I'd— Yd. kill anybody who took her from j 
me. 

Emily, (up to R. c. quickly) Do you mean that, Ernest ? 

Ernest. Why, you know I do. 

Emily. No, 1 don't ; you've never done it. 

Tom. That's because you've never been taken from him. 

Emily, No, nor never will be. 

Ernest, (quickly) Do you mean that ? 

Emily. Did I ever tell you an untruth ? 

Ernest: Yes ; lots of times. 

Tom. Ha ! Kn ! ha ! 

Emily. But I never meant to — you've tortured me enough, I'm 
sure. 

Ernest. Now, I put it \.o you, Tom, do I look like a torturer ! 
(turns round on his heel). 

Tom. (looking him up and down) Certainly not. 

Ernest. Very well, then. 

Emily. Very well, then. 

Tom. It seems to me you're both in rather a fix, and I don't 
see who's to get you out of it. 

Ernest. Why, you can, Tom. 

Emily. Yes, you, dearest Tom. 

Ernest. Not "dearest," Emily. 

Tom. Here, here, cheapest if you like — only don't quarrel. 

Ernest. Tom, we throw ourselves upon you. (leans on Tom's 
left shoulder) 

Emily. Yes, Tom, so we do. (same business on Tom's R. 
shoulder) 

Tom. Here, not both together ; it's as much as I can do to 
support myself. Bear up, both of you, I beg. (throws them 
off.) 

Ernest. You don't know how devoted I am to Emily here. 
(pulls TOM by the L. arm) 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 29 

Emily. And you can't imagine how attached I am to Ernest 
there, (pulls Tom by the R. arm) 

Ernest. There, you hear her, Tom. (same business) 

Tom. Don't pull me in two. (they leave go) 

Emily. I've always loved Ernest, and if I have occasionally 
shown a little jealous/ or ill-temper, I'm sure I'm punished 
enough for it now. Marry you, indeed — I'd as soon marry — I'd 
as soon marry — - 

Tom. There, there, don't go into particulars — somebody very 
awful, no doubt. I'll take my oath I don't want to marry you. 
It's altogether out of my power. 

Ernest. Anyway, I'd soon make it so ; I'd — I'd — you should 
never live to take Emily from me. I'd — 

Tom. B,ow my brains out of course. The only course you 
could take which would render it impossible to retaliate. 

Ernest, {vexed) Oh, you turn everything into a joke. 

Emily, (in same tone) Yes ; so you do, Tom. 

Tom. (laughing) Confound it, you don't want us all three to 
begin to weep, do you ? "Crier, juncta, in uno." Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Ernest. No, Tom, but — but (with a burst) Oh, my dear fel- 
low, you don't realize the awful nature of our position, (takes his 
L. hand — Emily his r.) 

Emily. Reflect, Tom — two young hearts — devoted — beating 
only for — (begins to cry) 

Tom. This is affecting, and as you both hold a hand, I can't 
get at my pocket handkerchief, (they both let go — going up C.) 
Here, let's go and chat the matter out in the open. Come along. 
(strolls off c. and R.) 

Ernest, (to Emily) Do you think he'll see us through it ? 

Emily. If not, we must see ourselves. Ernest, I am prepared 
for the worst — elopement — anything, (they are going up) 

Ernest. Hang it, do you know what that costs ? 

Emily. How should I ? 

Ernest. It would take a whole year of a fellow's allowance, 
Emily. 

Emily. Oh, you've no courage ! 

Ernest. Yes, I've lots of courage, but no cash ; and they won't 
trust us at the Railway Station. (Exeunt C. and R., wrangling 
as they go off.) 

Enter Muggles from door L. 2 E. — he watches them off. 

Mug. (r. C.) Pooty creetures. "Sure sich a pair was never 
seen so justly formed to meet by natur." Hem! Shakespeare. 
Never was a young couple so completely cut out for connuberal 
companionship, but ^alas ! it " ne'er can be." " Beyold how 
'eedless of their fate the little creetures play." Hem! poet as I 
Can't call to mind at the moment. Ha, here's the Major ! 



30 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Enter Major Billiter/^w door l. 2 e. 

Major (L. c.) By Jove, must have been asleep ever so long— 
doosid rude of me. Hilloa, Muggles. 

Mug. Hilloa, Major. 

Major. Where's everybody ? 

Mug. .//out in the //open hah. 

Major. Muggles, you and I have always been very good 
friends. You're a very worthy, respectable person, Mr. Muggles. 
highly so. 

Mug. Hoh ! " Praise from Sir Hudibras Stanley is praise in- 
deed ! " Hem ! dramatist, name unknown. 

Major. I want you to do me a favor. 

Mug. Nobody more ready to do anybody a favor than self for 
— " for a consideration." Hem ! Scotch party who have recently 
had a centenuary. 

Major, (mysteriously) You have opportunities of seeing Miss 
Priscilla Mervyn alone. 

Mug. 'Undreds. But as a man of //onor, I am bound to say I 
never avails myself of the privilege. 

Major. Do so at the earliest opportunity. Give her this ( 
letter. 

Mug. {obtusely) I don't see it. (holds out his L. hand) 

Major. And accept this sovereign, (gives hint one.) 

Mug. {taking sovereign and letter) Ah, I see it now. 

Major. You will of course be careful that you are unobserved, 
Muggles. You understand me ? 

Mug. Puffickly. 

Major. Just so. " Tral lal lal lar lal lar lar." (strolls up and 
off c. and L., singing.) 

Mug. So old Priscilla's got a //offer at last. Good. She's in 
the way here — interferes with my plans a good deal. Then she's 
always wanting to see my books. Not that she ever do. (crosses 
uJ>L.) 

Enter Miss Fanny Smith from door L. 2 E. 

Fanny, (crossing to R. c.) What a relief to get into this nice 
cool room after the warm love old Mervyn's been making to me. 
I couldn't get away from him. (Muggles comes down L. C.) I 
— (turns, sees Mug., starts.) Muggles, what a start you gave 
me. (sits on ottoman.) 

Mug. Beg pardon, miss, I'm sure. Last thing in the world as 
I'd do for to startle you, miss. I'm sure if master knew I'd 
startled you, miss, dismissal without warning would be the con- 
sequence of sich — 

Fanny. Sich, Muggles ? 

Mug. Sich condick, miss. Master's express horders is — 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 31 

" Look after Miss Smith — see as Miss Smith haves all she wants 
— mind as her comforts is attended to afore everybody." Ha, 
miss, it's something to rouse such sentiments in such a boosom 
as master's, which, on a hordinary calculation, have panted 
these fifty-five year. 

Fanny. I'm sure I'm very much indebted to Mr. Mervyn for 
his kindness, and to you too, Muggles, for your unremitting- 
attention. 

Mug. Ha, miss, there is some parties as it is 'appiness to 
attend on, and Mothers as is gall and wormwood to them as 
waits. Sometimes when I'm 'anding Mr. Gilroy his plate at 
dinner, I can scarce keep from 'itting 'im 'ard on the yead with 
it first, which would nat'rally provoke remark. 

Fanny. On his part, most probably. Then you don't like your 
master's cousin, [aside). Ha, ha, this is delightful. 

Mug. Like him ! Like a party as watches one as if one was a 
ticket-of-leave ! However, when he's married to Miss //emily — 

Fanny, {rising indignantly) What ! married to — 

Mug. Don't you know as they're engaged ? At least they're 
going to be. Oh, master's settled all that. 

Fanny. Has he though ? 

Mug. That'll be the first match, and the second— {grinning 
significantly at her.) 

Fanny, {amused despite her vexation) Yours, Muggles ? 

Mug. Mine ? not by no means. I were born a bachelor, and 
I shall continue in the same persuasion. 

Fanny. Quite right, Muggles. 

Enter Tom C.from R. He conies down R. C. 

Mug. But, master is another pair of shoes. You must have 
observed — [turns his head, catches Tom's eye, and collapses.) 

Tom. {up R. C.) I heard your master calling for you a mo- 
ment ago. 

Mug. I fly. {goes to door L. ( aside). If that fellow's agoing to 
upset any of mv plans, I'll pison him. (Exit, door L.) 

Fanny. (R. C. — with ill-concealed passion) So, at last we 
meet. 

Tom. {coming left of ottoman) At last. 

Fanny. And you're engaged, it appears. 

Tom. Engaged ! I'm married. 

Fanny. What ? 

Tom. I believe our union was a perfectly legal one. (sits on 
ottoman.) 

Fanny. Yes, indeed. Worse luck. 

Tom. As you say. Worse luck. 

Fanny. For you ? 

Tom. For you. I thought you intended leaving England. 



32 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Fanny. So I did, but something drew me back again, (looks 
at him.) 

Tom. And that something ? 

Fanny. Don't know ; a lurking fondness for — 

Tom. Yes ? 

Fanny. My native land. 

Tom. Oh. And it's five years since we met. 

Fanny. Yes ; five long years. 

Tom. Long years, did you find them ? 

Fanny, (quickly). No, no, short. I mean short, (aside). 
He's better looking than ever, (crosses to L. C.) 

Tom. Lapse of time has not changed the temper, I presume. 

Fanny. I should say not in the slightest. But I can't be sure. 

Tom. Why ? 

Fanny. Because I've had no one to try it on since — since we 
parted. 

Tom. Let me see, five years — why, you must be — 

Fanny, (sits in an arm chair L. C.) Just five years older than 
when we last met, of course. It's remarkable we should meet 
like this. 

Tom. Ah, is it fate, I wonder ? 

Fanny. In time to prevent your crime. 

Tom. Crime ? 

Fanny. Marriage with Emily. 

Tom. What do you mean ? I couldn't. 

Fanny. No, but you would. 

Tom. Hear me swear — 

Fanny. No ; I heard you once five years ago, that was suf- 
ficient. 

Tom. Enough to make me. I married you as a penniless girl, 
and I found you'd deceived me. 

Fanny. Found I had money. What a disgrace ! 

Tom. I felt it so. You knew my position. Up to my eyes in 
debt with the determination, ay, and the ability to pay off every 
shilling by my own exertions, and not fling away my wife's 
money to Oxford harpies and sixty-per-cent. vampires. I never 
imagined you possessed money. 

Fanny. Neither did I — when we married it became yours. 

Tom. To be dependent upon a wife for money ! Why, I 
could never have looked my own servants in the face with the 
knowledge that I had to draw their very wages from — from — 

Fanny. And yet you actually concealed our marriage from 
your cousin, because without his consent you could never get 
your own money. Don't you see the absurdity of the position 
you take? He happened to be abroad, and — 

Tom. And I did not choose to wait, so I married. After a 
quarrel one day you said — 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 33 

Fanny. I said what I didn't mean. I said words which if tears 
could have washed them from one's recollections would have 
been obliterated long since. 

Tom. You told me of my dependent position. You flung your 
money in my face. 

Fanny. Having previously flung it at your feet. 

Tom. I didn't choose to stoop and pick it up, Fanny, and I 
left you, as any man of spirit would have done. 

Fanny. And I never asked you to come back, as any woman 
of spirit would have applauded me for. 

Tom. Very true. I have got on ^//assisted, and when I can 
support a wife — in the style she has a right to expect — 

Fanny, (anxiously) Yes, Tom, yes — 

Tom. Then and then only will 1 come back humbly — 

Fanny. Humbly ? 

Tom. And ask for a renewal of those ties which she alone 
^severed by a deception which — which — 

Fanny. And when — supposing such a proposition were en- 
tertained by the injured wife — 

Tom. Injured ! 

Fanny. Injured wife ; when would your lordship consider it 
not humiliating to acknowledge your lawful spouse ? 

Tom. (excitedly) When I am " your lordship," or on the road 
to it. When I've got my silk gown. 

Fanny, (crosses to R.) But that may be ever so long. By that 
time you'll be a grizzly elderly barrister, so taken up with your 
profession that — ■ 

Tom. I shall have no time for the parks, the opera, theatres, 
concerts, and the numerous other delights without which your 
existence would be a blank. 

Fanny. It's not true. I never go anywhere when Captain 
Radstock's away. 

Tom. (in a rage, rising) Captain Radstock — does he take you 
about ? 

Fanny. In the absence of my lawful protector, somebody ?nust. 

Tom. That makes me look rather a fool, madam. 

Fanny. Very much so, indeed, but then he doesn't guess I'm 
married, (wickedly) He can't, from the way he goes on. 
(crosses to l.) 

Tom. (almost unable to master his rage) Oh, indeed — so he 
" goes on" does he ! And you consider you're behaving properly 
in being seen about with — with — (sits on ottoman again) 

Fanny, (seated in arm-chair L.) I would rather lead a domes- 
tic life, if I had the opportunity — the pleasant late dinner with 
the curtains closed and the gas lighted — the music and chat, 
and the cozy hour or two, with coffee, and one or two of my 
husband's old friends smoking a cigar and talking of their old 



34 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

bachelor days — the calm pleasant close to the long day ; how 
charming is the picture if it could but be realized. 

Tom. (aside) By Jove, how true her words are ! What a 
waste my life is. What are my evenings ? Soda and brandy, 
and bitter thoughts. Fanny, it such a picture as you have drawn 
could be — 

Fanny, (with severity) It could not. You yourself broke the 
chain, it can never be rejoined. It seemed at first formed of the 
lightest love links, but you soon let me feel you found them 
fetters. And so you shook them off. 

Tom. (with a burst of affection) Make me once more a slave, 
Fanny ; I have suffered more than you can ever have done. 

Fanny. No, no, my days for making slaves are past. My 
heart is softer now. 

Tom. (bitterly) Harder you mean, or you would not let your 
husband plead for your forgiveness vainly. 

Fanny, (up to him quickly) And you do plead for forgiveness,, 
then ? You do regret the past — you — 

Tom. (with half comic tearfulness) I want my wife once 
more. I want to make up for lost years of what might have been 
a happy companionship, but which has been a bitter lonely life 
for me. {seizing her hand, and speaking with rapidity and 
great fervor) You don't know what it is — after the day's 
work, worry and excitement — to find yourself in your dull dusty 
chambers without a living soul to speak to — with no sound 
audible but the distant roar of the busy streets, and the ticking 
of the clock upon your mantelpiece, that seems to mock you 
with its ceaseless " I go on forever " kind of monotony, (draws 
her closer to him). Ah, Fanny, if you could only be a bachelor 
for a little bit, you'd pity me ; pity's akin to love, and you'd 
forgive me. 

Fanny, {turning to him with great affection) I do, Tom ; 
but your cousin — 

Tom. Hang all the cousins in the universe. You're mine once 
more, darling ; nothing shall ever separate us. 

Fanny. Nothing, Tom, nothing ! 

Tom. We're partners once again. 

Fanny. Yes, yes, and this time — 

Tom. Partners for life ! (rapturously embraces her.) 
Simultaneously — Enter Mervyn c.from l.— Emily andEwEST 

C.from R.—Priscu.la from L. door, followed by MUGGLES.— 

Mkrvyn throws up his hands hi astonishment, up L. C. — 

PRISCILLA shrieks and falls into the arms of MUGGLES, L.— 

Emily covers her eyes with her hands, Ernest beside her, 

up r. c. 

Tableau. 
ACT DROP, NOT TOO QUICK. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 35 



ACT III. 



Scene. — Library and study at Mr. Mervvn's — Bookcases with 
books. — Busts over them. — Handsome fireplace up R. c— 
Doors R. and L. 2 e. — Window c, showing landscape through. 
— Door up L C. — Turkey Carpet. — Rich furniture of carved 
oak, covered with scarlet or green velvet. — A large library 
table R. C. — Easy chair L. of table. — Pens, ink, paper, ruler, 
fs'c., all on table. — Couch L. — Chairs about stage. 

Mervyn is walking to and fro excitedly. Sir Archibald 
Drelincourt seated L. of table. 

Sir A. Really it is very sad, very sad indeed, my dear friend. 

Merv. Sad ! Sad ! Sir Archibald Drelincourt. " Sad " is not 
the word. Not the word at all. 

Sir A. Well, we'll say " distressing." 

Merv. Oh, distressing doesn't meet the case. Doesn't come 
anywhere near it. 

Sir A. Well, "maddening" then. 

Merv. Ah, maddening 's nearer the mark if you like. Yes, it 
is maddening. And it's' always paid such an enormous percen- 
tage — such an overwhelming percentage. 

Sir A. Overwhelming percentages soon wear themselves out. 
I find the consols quite good enough for me. Those, with a few 
foreign securities that I can rely on, suffice for my humble wants, 
and enable me to subscribe my occasional mite— I say it advis- 
edly — mite — to those distant objects of charity, concerning which 
I have so often spoken to you. 

Merv. Misfortunes never come singly. Thwarted and upset 
as I was already, here comes this terrible news. If the Kangaroo 
copper mines have collapsed I'm— I'm — damme, I'm stumped, 
Drelincourt. There is only one word for my position, and that 
is stumped, sir. (crosses up to L. c.) 

Sir A. (shrugging his shoulders) Ha — ah ! Unwise invest- 
ment—very. And the panic is almost certain to smash up 
Hopkinsons. 

Merv. (starting) You don't tell me that ! Why man, I 
relied on Hopkinsons as I would have done on the Bank of 
England. I wouldn't — 

Enter MUGGLES suddenly from door L. 2 E., with an "Echo" 
newspaper. 

Mug. (L.) Pretty noos. Hopkinsons put up their shutters. 



36 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Merv. (sinks on chair up L. C.) Talk of the devil ! — 

Mug. That's old Dan'l Hopkinson. Leastways everybody says 
so. He's been living on a wolcanium all these years, and now 
as there's a regler 'ruption, he's packed up all as he could lay 
'old of and //eloped to Spain. Second Sedition of the Hekker. 
(gives it to Mervyn.) How they can sell you such a lot of bad 
noos for a 'apenny is astonishing. 

Merv. This is a double blow, indeed. 

Mug. (aside) One, two — buckle my shoe. Hem ! Poet as 
devotes hisself to the nussery. 

Merv. (rises, takes R. corner ; aside) And Priscilla's money- 
was invested there — what — what shall I do ? Muggles, leave us. 

Mug. Suttingly. (aside). He's agoing to ask the Bart to assist 
him. Vain 'ope. Catch a phi-lan-//*r^-phist assisting of any- 
body unless its hisself. (Exit door L. 2 E.) 

Merv. (up to table R. C.) Drelincourt, I never asked a favor of 
any man before in my life, but this dreadful business has thrown 
me as it were on my beam ends. I have one or two important 
payments to make early in the month, and — and — in short, can 
you assist me ? Be assured I shall never forget the obligation, 
and when I've had time to turn myself round — 

Sir A. (putting on his gloves, demurely) Mervyn, my friend, 
my dear friend — 

Merv. Your old friend, (offers his hand) 

Sir A. My " old-enough-to- know-better" friend. I make a 
point of never assisting neighbors. The system's a bad one — a 
very bad one. Were you on the banks of the Bangalora river — 

Merv. Oh, damn the Bangalora river, (sits R. of table) 

Sir A. (very quietly) They have endeavored to do so, but in 
vain. Irrigation, drainage, and the water system generally, is at 
present in its infancy in that neglected clime. But pumps and 
perseverance may yet do much. 

Merv. You can answer for the pumps, no doubt. 

Sir A. (rising) Mr. Mervyn, your behavior is uncalled for, 
your jest is obscure, and your general tone offensive. If you have 
lost your money, you might keep your temper. Learn philosophy, 
my dear sir. Remember, we are born to suffer. 

Merv. (in a rage) You'll remember it if you don't get out. 

Sir A. (drawing himself up) Get out, sir! Are you mad or 
intoxicated ! You're not the only person in the world who has 
suffered misfortunes. Look at the pigs I lost last winter ; remem- 
ber how the hail storm beat down my best field of wheat the 
year before, and a cow worth twenty pounds choked herself under 
my very nose with a turnip. Did /go about insulting my neigh- 
bors ? Did /tell people to get out ? No, sir, I trust that in a 
more resigned and meeker spirit I — 

Merv. (calls) Muggles ! 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 37 

Enter MUGGLES sharply from door L. 2 E. 

Oh, you're there, eh. 

Mug. (L. C.) Thought it best to be as near the key-hole — I mean 
the door — as possible. 

Merv. (rises) Show Sir Archibald Drelincourt out. 

Sir A. (in a rage) It serves me right for — for ever associat- 
ing with such canaille. (Exit door L. 2 E.) 

Mug. 'Ere, are you going to stand being called a canal ? It's 
only another way of cutting you. 

Merv. Rubbish ! he means I'm low, vulgar. 

Mug. Don't see as that's any excuse myself. 

(Exit door L. 2 E.) 

Merv. There's a type of what I may expect, (coming forward 
C.) What's to be done ? (goes up L.of table) What's to be done ? 
sinks into chair L. of table.) 

Enter PRlsciLLA/r^w door up L. C. 

Pris. (leaning over his shoulder) Horace, dear, what's this 
dreadful news ? is it true ? 

Merv. Dreadful news is always true ; it's only good news 
there's ever any doubt about. I'm next but one to ruined, my 
dear. 

Pris. But there's my money. 

Merv. My dear sister don't you know we both rowed in the 
same boat ? Your money has gone with mine, and we're little 
better than a couple of paupers. What's to be done ? 

Pris. (with a sudden courage) Well, brother, the first thing 
we must do is to bear up, the last thing to give way. People 
have lost their money before us. We're not the first folks who 
have had to rough it — and let us thank heaven that we've health 
and strength to rough it, thatyour hat and my bonnet cover our 
families, and (taking his hand) we'll go hand in hand through 
life the best of friends, and in the best of spirits, if we must give 
up the luxuries we never wanted, and learn to prize the simpler 
pleasures of a humbler but a no less happy life, (they hold each 
other s hands.) 

Merv. You're a true woman, Priscilla, old girl, a good woman, 
and I'll try my hardest to follow your bright example— if I can. 

Pris. (goes to fireplace up R. C. crying) Of course there'll be 
a sale. 

Merv. (in horror) A what ? 

Pris. Gracious, man, don't be absurd. A sale — stair carpet 
out of the drawing-room window, catalogues of "superior modern 
furniture," dreadful men with husky voices on the doorstep, and 
every old maid in the neighborhood collected on forms and making 
believe to bid. 



38 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Merv. (aside) How detestably graphic she is. 

Pris. The furniture's excellent and will fetch a long sum. 
(coming forward a little) Why, my parrot's good for a ten pound 
note. 

Merv. A ten pound — 

Pris. Certainly. Look at the low language he uses. 

Merv. Ha J I forgot that. 

Pris. He hasn't, though. Bless his old beak, (goes up to 
mantelpiece again) We'll take a nice cheap little cottage. 
Ernest must go into a merchant's office, and Emily — 

Enter MuGGLES/r0;« door L. 2 E. 

Merv. What's to become of Muggles ? 

Mug. Percisely. What's to become of Muggles ? 

Pris. (indignantly) Why, of course he will go away and look 
for another situation, and endeavor to do his duty— (moving 
towards door up L. c.) — and keep his place. (Exit door up L. 
C. Mervyn rises, gets round and sits R. of table.) 

Mug. (smiling pityingly, aside) She means well. She's a 
/jiritating old gal, but she means well. " Keep his place." Yes, 
he means to. Well, sir and how do you feel now ? Do you see 
your course at all ? Eh ! 

Merv. Beyond giving up all I can, and endeavoring by re- 
trenchment, rigid economy, and the greatest — 

Mug. Bah ! Don't talk copy books, 'cos my eddication having 
been neglected, texts is troublesome. Don't you see your game ? 

Merv. My game ? 

Mug. Miss Smith. 

Merv. (rises, violently) Be silent, sir, you know how I ad- 
mired that young lady. That — that — I was most anxious to 
make her mistress of Mervyn Hall — but remember the position 
in which — which — (comes R. c.) No, Muggles, I believe and 
hope her boxes are being packed preparatory to her departure 
from a house which she has — she has — (goes up a little.) 

Mug. Which she's what? Now look at the affair sensible. 
It seems as your cousin Mr. Gilroy and her have met before, — 
is in fact, old acquaintances. Very good. They meets at the 
'ouse of a mutual friend. Carried away by the ^eloquency of 
the legal party, the lady reclines for a moment in his arms, 
//unfortunately, (and the same thing 'ave 'appened to myself) 
other parties arrive at the critickle moment. Result. — General 
explosion. But very big explosions often /^arises from a re- 
markable small amount of powder. 

Merv. (R. C.) Muggles, occupying a humble sphere, you 
have stopped short of being a clever scoundrel ; with a further 
field and larger opportunities you might have turned out a hero. 
Your arguments are quite unanswerable, and so — 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 39 

Mug. And so you're agoing to try and answer 'em ; I never 
knew nobody as didn't do the same thing. Now listen to reason. 
She's got money — got a lot of money — and it's at her own dis- 
posal. 

Merv. How can you be sure of that ? 

Mug. Bless your 'art, leave us servants alone for twigging 
parties with long purses. There's a sort of //electricity about 
'em as communicates direct to the servants' 'all. When one of 
your rich city friends comes to see you, do you think we don't 
sum him up on the spot ? The very //accents of his voice says 
" tin." There's ready money in the curl of his lip, and //inde- 
pendence in his hi. As you pass behind him a-waiting at din- 
ner, 'is very yair roil is redolient of property. As for them 
young clerks and seedy old swells as you 'ave down sometimes 
as " fill-ups," the very way they wipes their boots on the yall 
mat speaks wolumes. Miss Smith mayn't be a milliona/Vv, nor 
yet a m\\\\ox\airess, and though the situation with Mr. Gilroy 
were equ'wo-hial, she's your only chance — your forlorn 'ope. 

Merv. But all this is guess-work — mere surmise. You have 
really no proof that — 

Mug. I see her last Toosday a sittin' and writin' cheques by 
yolesale. 

Merv. No, no, it can't be. I wouldn't marry a woman of 
my own age for money ; still less would I this girl who — who — ■ 
(with intensity) Besides you know that I — I — . Muggles, you 
know the mystery that — that — 

Mug. {densely) I know nothing. I remember nothing. The 
facts of the past have vanished from the memory of Muggles. 

Merv. No pretence, no sham, no lies, Muggles — you forget 
nothing, and you have taken ample and cruel care that /should 
forget nothing as well, (in grief.) 

Mug. (still obtusely) I've forgotten what ought to be for- 
gotten, and I'm not agoing to remember it again if I don't choose .' 
As the witness, when he was accused of having a bad memory, 
said to the judge, " It's not me, recorder." Why you should al- 
ways b& yarping on the one string, I can't make out. You paid 
a certain sum to get rid of a certain annoyance — and you ain't 
been annoyed, have you ? 

Merv. But don't you see, man, that if she were proved to 
be living still, I should simply — 

Mug. No, I don't — I don't see nothing, and I won't — 

Merv. I must write at once to Atkins and Jones, (goes and 
sits R. of table) Something must be done instantly — my head 
swims and my hand shakes so, I can scarcely — (begins writing 
nervously.) 

Mug. (aside) Once married to Miss Hess, and he's more 
under my thumb than ever. That's one way out of the yole. 



40 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Then there's the Major's proposal to the old lady, {with con* 
tempt) Bah ! 'arf pay — 'arf pay, not worth fighting for. Don't 
seem to care for a smash and a sell-up, though. Hang speck- 
elation— whenever he does anything without consulting me it's 
always a mull. 

Major Billiter bursts in, door L. 2 E. 

Major, {crossing to L. of table) What's this I hear? Can't 
be true, Mervyn, my dear fellow. Met Drelincourt rushing down 
the avenue declaring you'd lost your money and your wits at the 
same time. 

Merv. Quite true as regards the former. Don't pity me, 
Major, I'm too cut up to stand sympathy, {goes on writing) 

Major, {comes C. to MUGGLES) Muggles, what's it all mean ? 

Mug. It means the panic 'ave Padded two fresh victims to its 
carpacious mor. 

Major. Two ! Two victims ! 

Mug. Brother and sister. Master and Miss Priscilla. Miss 
Priscilla in partickler. 

Major. Impossible ! 

Mug. Quite so. Still it's a fact. 

Major. But I always understood — 

Mug. You always understood as Hopkinsons was reg'lar 
rocks. But when //earthquakes comes sudden, rocks is apt to 
suffer. 

Major, [in horror, half aside) Why, confound it, I — 

Mug. {quietly) You did, and there 's'no getting out of it. 

Major, {blusteringly) What do you mean, sir ? How dare 
you ! 

Mug. {shaking his finger at him) Look here, Major, the 
governor there's a writing a letter, and it's rude to 'oiler. Any 
further ^observations you may feel disposed to make, please 
make 'em " Sutty vochey." Hem ! Forrin hauthor. 

Major, {aside). The scoundrel's right. I must manoeuvre, (to 
MUGGLES in undertones). You remember that note I gave you 
some time back. 

Mug. It wasn't a note. It was only a sovereign. 

Major. Pshaw ! a letter. I must have it back, Muggles. 

Mug. What, the sovereign ? 

Major. No, the — the — 

Mug. The billy doo ? 

Major. Nothing of the kind, sir. A mere business communi- 
cation, but I particularly require its return. I'll give you another 
sovereign if you can — 

Mug. Look here, Major, as I am powerful I'll be mussiful. 
You're on the magistrate's bench here, with authority — your 
word's lor, and precious rum lor it often ij, Now if ever I apply 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 41 

for a license for the " Dog and Duck," you'll see as it ain't 
refused ? 

Major. I'm afraid the notorious character of the place will 
prevent my — 

Mug. (going L). Then I must see as she gets that letter. 

Major. Here ! Here ! Consider the " Dog and Duck " licensed. 
1 promise ; and my word — a soldier's word — 

Mug. There's the dokyment, and it's a bargain, {gives him 
letter.) 

Major, (aside). What a relief ! (goes up R. C. to Mervyn). 
Mervyn, my dear fellow, you must bear up. There's my hand. 
Anything an old campaigner can do for you at any time, com- 
mand — command. I've had losses myself — devilish heavy ones, 
but I whistled away my sorrows, sir. You do the same, and all's 
sure to come right in the end. (Exit, door L. 2E., singing. " When 
the heart of a man is oppressed with care," etc. -Mervyn sits 
dejected, with his head resting on his hand.) 

Mug. (in smiling admiration of the Major) " How happy 
the soldier what lives on his pay. And something or other a 
shilling a day." Hem ! Military poet — partially forgotten. 
(goes up C. looking through window). He don't feel misfortunes, 
not 'im. He's the sort of— oh. Law 1 (apparently sees some- 
thing alarming, which causes him to start violently ; he stag- 
gers down to back 0/ table, and lets his hands fall heavily on 
it, quite overcome?) 

Merv. (startled, rises nervously) What the deuce is the 
matter, man ! My nerves are sufficiently upset already without 
— without — (quite upset, sits again.) 

Mug. (with his hand to his heart going C. to L.) Down, 
down, perturbed spirit. Phew ! (to Merv.) Other parties has 
nerves as well as you. (aside). I could have sworn it was — it was 
— pah ! But that's impossible. He's booked safe enough, and 
likenesses do appear in the best reggle-ated back gardens. 
(Ernest and Emily have enteiedfrom door L. 2 ^.unperceived. 
— Emily goes behind Mervvn's table, and places her armround 
his neck ; at the same mo?)ient ERNEST L. of Muggles, coughs. 
Mervyn starts slightly, Muggles violently, his nerves being 
evidently upset.) 

Emily, (at back of table) Dear Cousin Horace. 

Mag. (aside) Railly, these sudden shocks should be considered 
in a party's wages. 

Ernest. Muggles. 

Mug. Yes, Mr. /femest. 

Ernest. We wish to be alone with your master. 

Mug. Suttinly, sir. (going towards door L., aside) Well, it 
were a remarkable likeness, it were a — 

(catches Ernest's eye, and exit door L. 2 E. 



42 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Emily. Ernest and 1 have settled it all, dear, and cousin Pris- 
eilla says she's charmed with it ; the notion's splendid. 

Merv. What notion, dear ? 

Ernest. (L. of table) Well, in the first place we're going to 
get married. 

Merv. Marry your aunt ? you can't do it. 

Ernest. No, Emily and me. She's got an income. I'll show 
you what the education you have helped me to will result in. 
Lord Rockleigh, my old college friend, will give me three 
hundred a year as secretary to-morrow, and jump at it. and 
we'll all live together, a downright happy family, Uncle Horace. 
(places his arm round Emily's waist) 

Merv. My dear boy, you speak impossibilities. 

Emily. Oh, but it's settled. We've as good as taken the 
house, haven't we, Ernest ? 

Ernest. Better. 

Emily. But before we do anything, we're going to make con- 
ditions, Horace dear. You must tell him, Ernest. 

Ernest. You must shake hands with Tom. 

Emily. And forgive him. 

Merv. (rises, crosses to L. Emily comes down R. ERNEST 
comes C.) Never ! Don't misjudge me. It is not from any 
foolish jealous feeling; my short silly dream is at an end, and I 
blush now at my own conceit and selfishness. That young lady's 
hold over my soft old heart has lost its power. But Tom — my 
old friend and relative, to know what he must have done, and 
yet permit me to — to — • 

Emily, (crossing to c.) But don't you see that's just what he 
didn't do. He tried his best to argue you out of proposing to 
her, and was too much a gentleman, no doubt, to state his 
reasons. It now seems they were old acquaintances, and prob- 
ably his knowledge of her prompted the advice he gave you. 

Merv. By Jove, Emily, that's true, (takes L. comer) I see the 
force of the — 

Fanny Smith appears at door up L. C, dressed for travel- 
ling. 

Fanny, (meekly) May I come in ? (comes down C, they all 
three appear very uncomfortable) 

Emily. (R. C. ; after a slight pause, at Fanny) The carriage 
is ordered, I believe, Ernest ? 

Ernest. (R.) I have given instructions. 

Fanny. (L. C, aside) Poor things, I'm not surprised — it's only 
natural, (to Mervyn) Mr. Mervyn, notwithstanding the pain- 
ful position in which you beheld me a few hours since — 

Emily, (aside) Indeed ! There didn't seem to be much pain 
about it. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 43 

Merv. (loftily) Pray, madam, do not allude to that unpleasant 
circumstance. 

Fanny. I wish to say good-bye before going — to shake you by 
the hand — to say a word or two of sympathy, however unwel- 
come they may prove — for I have heard, believe me, with sincere 
grief, of the sudden heavy loss you — (is overco?nc) 

Merv. (blowing his nose, a little moved ; aside) If she cries, 
I'm done for. 

Ernest, (aside to Emily) She really appears cut up. 

Emily. Cut up ! Ha ! The crocodile. 

Fanny, (to Merv.) I have a few remarks to make to you, 
which — 

Emily, (coldly) Pray, make them. 

Fanny. Which are for your private ear. 

Emily, (huffed) Ho ! indeed ! 

Ernest, (to Emily) We'd better clear out. She can do no 
further harm. 

Emily, (going to door R.) Oh, certainly, (to Ernest) And 
you could admire that woman ! (Exit in a restrained rage, door 

R. 2 E.) 

Ernest. I wish I could be mean enough to listen. (Exit door 

R. 2 E.) 

Merv. (crossing in front to R., indicating easy chair L. of 
table) Pray be seated. (Fanny goes up and sits L. of table. 
Merv. sits R. of table, fidgetty, the more so from her self-pos- 
session) 

Fanny, (with perfect composure) Mr. Mervvn, in ten minutes 
or so I leave your hospitable roof — 

Merv. Mine no longer. 

Fanny. Don't interrupt me — 

Merv. Madam ! 

Fanny. If you please. I am sorry to go away — leaving a bad 
impression, and Emily I will never forgive. 

Merv. Eh ? 

Fanny. Until she asks my forgiveness. 

Merv. That she will — 

Fanny, (quickly) Do before long. However, as regards my 
being discovered — let us speak out and call a spade a spade — 
almost embracing — ■ 

Merv. (quickly) Quite. Quite. 

Fanny. Just so. Mr. Gilroy. That naturally aroused your 
indignation, your jealous indignation. 

Merv. Jealous ! 

Fanny. You admired me. You would have wished to make 
me Mrs. Mervyn, but— (very markedly) — that you could not do. 

Merv. (jumps up sharply, much agitated). How do you know 



44 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

that, madam ? How do you know that ? Who has been talking 
to you about my affairs ? Who has dared to — to — 

Fanny. Nobody. What's the matter ? I was only going to 
say it would be an impossibility, because — 

Merv. {painfully agitated) Because — 

Fanny. Because I happen to possess a husband already. 

Merv. You ! you possess a— (sinks into chair, relieved). I 
breathe once more. I thought you were going to say that f— 
Phew ! 

Fanny. Yes, Mr. Mervyn, I'm a married woman. 

Merv. (rises, speaks across the table) Oh, indeed. And you 
actually, positively bring that fact forward as an excuse for your 
behavior. Don't you see it aggravates it, madam? (comes down 
front, then back again). But there, there, I've no right to talk 
to you like this ; the carriage will soon be ready, and — excuse 
me, my time is valuable, and this sudden change in our fortunes 
necessitates my — (sits again) 

Fanny. Listening to reason. Listening to a friend whom you 
may find where you least expect it. 

Merv. (bitterly) Ha ! ha ! Yes, it will certainly be there. 

Fanny. I know something of your family arrangements. 

Merv. (again alarmed). You do ? You'll excuse me, but — 

Fanny, (with authority). You'll excuse me, but I shall be 
obliged if you will hear me out without interruption. You've 
come to grief. 

Merv. Well, it's come to me. 

Fanny. Same thing. You had an eccentric relative, I believe, 
who left a strange will to the effect that if his rather wild nephew, 
Mr. Gilroy, married against your consent before the age of thirty- 
five, his very considerable legacy was to go to you. 

Merv. Quite true. Bernard was half mad, only it doesn't do 
to say so. 

Fanny. Suppose he should marry without your consent. 

Merv. He knows better. 

Fanny. Don't make so sure of that. 

Merv. My dear madam, I make sure of nothing for the future. 
I made sure of the stability of Hopkinsons'— I made sure of the 
big profits from the Kangaroo mine — I made sure of Tom's good 
faith, of Drelincourt's friendship, of your simplicity, of — of — 
Bah ! everything's false and bad, and — 

Fanny. Suppose he — a — he has married ? 

Merv. What ! 

Fanny. People do marry sometimes, and conceal the fact for 
years. 

Merv. (rising quickly, again bursting out). Madam! I don't 
know whether it is by design or by accident, but you are con- 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 45 

tinually making allusions which — (aside) But she couldn't know 
anything. 

Fanny. I'm sorry I bungle the matter so, but I'll endeavor to 
come to the point in as few words as possible. 

Merv. If you please. The fewer the better, (sits again) 

Fanny. If Tom has married — Mr. Gilroy I mean — the money's 
yours, and you can retrieve your position without the slightest 
difficulty. 

Merv. (rising, indignantly) Take Tom's money ! Blight the 
prospects of as good a lad as ever lived ! If he has married — 
poor boy ! (although he might have told me) why, all the more 
reason he should have his money, and I wouldn't touch a shilling 
of it if I were starving, (crosses to L. corner agitated.) 

Fanny. You really mean that ? 

Merv. (up to her). Mean it, ha ! ha ! I should think so, and 
that any woman could have brought herself to make such a pro- 
position simply amazes me — amazes me, Miss Smith, and I may 
add distresses me as well. 

Fanny. O, you dear old man ! 

Merv. What ! 

Fanny, (rising). You dear, darling, nankeenified old love ! I 
must hug you. (approaches him.) 

Merv. Go along, ma'am, (runs up R. round table, and behind 
it in alarm.) 

Fanny, (follows him to R. of table, then sits at his place with 
comical authority ; points to easy chair L. of table). Sit down. 
(Mervyn sits L. of table.) 

Fanny, (taking off her gloves) Now you stop over there a bit 
whilst I write. There, I can't write with steel pens, give me 
quills ; they make such a nice noise, (selects paper, pens &r°c, 
and commences writing) 

Merv. (quite non-plus sed ; aside) That's a remarkable young 
woman ! She's a genius, or she's mad, or she's something or 
other remarkable. I'm as rude to her as a man can well be in 
his own house, and she seems to like me all the better for it. 
There's some mystery about her. (Tom enters unpcrceivedjrom 
door L. 2 E.) There's something more than meets the — 

Tom. (L. of Mervyn) Eye. 

Merv. (looks up, sees Tom) Oh, you're there, sir, eh ? 

Tom. Yes ; I'm here, sure enough. 

Merv. (rises, comes C.) So, sir, I've heard a very pretty story 
about you ! A charming story, Mr. Thomas Gilroy. 

Tom. (coming L. c.) That's rather odd, for do you know I've 
just been the recipient of a highly interesting narrative con- 
cerning you. 

Merv. (staggered) What do you mean by that, sir? If any- 
one presumes to say anything of me, sir, calculated in any way 



46 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

to — to — hang it, Tom, speak out. I've suffered all day from 
hints and innuendos and vague remarks which — which — what the 
devil have you heard, Thomas Gilroy ? 

Tom. Ha ! ha ! ha ! what haven't I heard ! 

Merv. That I don't care a farthing for. But before you reply, 
tell me, sir, as your guardian, what you meant by getting mar- 
ried and concealing the fact ? 

Tom. And tell me, sir, as your ward, what you meant by 
doing the same. 

Merv. {staggering back, overcome) How did you know — I 
mean how did you guess — how did — 

Tom. There's a sympathy between Benedicks. It's a wonder 
we never found each other out before. 

Merv. Then you are — 

Tom. Married? Very much so. And you ? 

Enter Muggles suddenly, door L. 2 E. 

Mug. (L.) Look here, Mr. Gilroy, what's the meaning of all 
this 'ere ? None of your counsellor's airs here. Guv'nor, don't 
you stand no bullying. Mr. Gilroy, you ain't at the Old Bailey, 
you know. 

Tom. (L. C.) No. Take care you're not there before you're 
aware of it. As you've listened at the door, I needn't repeat my 
remarks. Your master's supposed to be a married man. 

Mug. Well, who says he ain't ? 

Tom. /do. 

Merv. Tom ! 

Fanny. Tom, dear ! 

Mug. Ha ! ha ! " Tom, dear." " Familirallity breeds con- 
tempt." Hem ! Doctor Watts. 

Tom. Ha ! Cornwall's a pleasant county, isn't it ? 

Merv. Eh? 

Mug. What ? 

Tom. Good, secret, retired, out of the way, ostrich-in-the 
sand, rly-in-the-amber, needle-in-a-bottle-of-hay, toad-in-the- 
hole, sort of locality, eh, Muggle*s ? Capital county for conceal- 
ing yourself from your creditors, sort of place where you can live 
and die without causing any particular remark, first rate place 
for human flowers to be "born, and blush unseen," for " mute 
inglorious Miltons, etc., etc. ; and above all other advantages a 
specially admirable neighborhood wherein to hide a wife, 

Fanny. Eh ? 

Merv. {aside) Oh, law ! {goes up, sits L. of table) 

Mug. Well, if /had a wife as wanted a hiding, I shouldn't be 
partick'ler as to the neighborhood. 

Fanny, {rises and comes forward R. C.) But, Tom, what does 
all this mean ? 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 47. 

Mug. (blusteringly) I tell you what it means. Mr. Gilroy 
thinks he's got 'old of something. 

Tom. Something and somebody. (FANNY sits again up R. C.) 

Mug. Eh ? 

Merv. Some — somebody, Tom ? 

Tom. Mr. Muggles, did you ever hear of a party of the name 
of — a — name of Goppinger ? 

Mug. (staggering, aside) It was 'im. I took him for a loosifer 
naturee, but it was 'im, and there's nothing -for it now but 
bluster, (aloud) He — hem ! Ya — ah, I knew a vagabond of 
that name. He was transported for a forgery, and — and — 

Tom. Has returned. 

Enter from door L. 2 E., Goppinger, a scrubby, grubby, gray 
muzzled old man, with bent back, arid general appearance 0/ 
dilapidation, a lawyer's blue bag in his hand. He comes 
slowly r. of Tom— Muggles being on Tom's l. 

Merv. Goppinger ? Goppinger ? I never heard the name. 

Tom. That's remarkable, considering you married his wife. 

Merv. What, sir ? 

Fanny. Tom, dear ! 

Mug. (with a strong effort to master his alarm) Ha ! ha ! 
we're a having a lark, we are. Mr. Mervyn, my master here, 
suttingly did marry, and I'm prepared to swear as he — (sees 
Goppinger, who is now down r. of Tom. Picture) Hottiwell 
Goppinger ! 

Gop. The werry identical flute. 

Mug. Why ain't you in Australia ? 

Gop. Why ain't you ? 

Mug. It's the land of your retreat — leastways your adoption. 

Gop. Gove'nment thinks I'm old enough to leave off being 
adopted, and as I ain't killed no warders, though opportoonities 
was noomerous and irritation continooal, and conducted myself 
in general first class, why, I've got my ticket of leave. Next 
time I visits the colonies, David Muggles, (with concentrated 
fierceness), it won't be for forgery, and it won't be on your 
evidence, old pal. (threatens MUGGLES. Tom puts him back. 
Mervyn rises and comes forward c.) He turned agin me, but 
you won't do so again, Davy. So, no sooner was my back 
turned, and you thought my cough was a settler, than you egged 
on your soft 'arted guv'nor here to marry my wife, eh, Davy 
Muggles, eh? (half rushing at him.) 

Merv. (excitedly, R. c.) "What do you say, man ? Do you 
mean to say that you — you — 

Tom. Ha ! ha f ha ! Goppinger isn't inviting to look at., but 
he's — 



48 PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Merv. I should think he was. {shakes GOPPINGER by the 
hand) Go on, my dear sir, go on. 

Gop. (to Mervyn) David there knew when you married 
buxom Kitty Larchmore, as her real name was Goppinger, and 
her 'usband living at the time. Fact was he knew you was as 
soft as — 

Merv. That'll do, sir, that'll do. (GOPPINGER goes up arid 
crosses to L. near door ; to MUGGLES) So the shameful thral- 
dom in which you have held me all these years, you ungrateful 
scoundrel — (crosses toe, to Tom.) I may call him a scoundrel, 
eh, Tom ? 

Tom. No ; you mayn't, but I should. 

Merv. Was simply — simply — (goes and sits L. of table.) 

Mug. Cease wituperation. I'm not wanted here, so I shall — 

Tom. Before you go you'll give up your books and account for 
no end of things, Mr. Muggles. This gentleman here was the 
mysterious correspondent who cautioned me to keep my eye on 
Muggles, he's been doing so for some time ; you see it's a little 
matter of revenge with him. 

Mug. All my fond 'opes vanished. The " Dog and Duck," 
the private //aspiration of years kollopsed — turned, as the poet 
haves it, " into thin //air, and what seemed like a corporal, melt- 
ed." Hem ! Bard of Evans. 

Gop. (L.) Come along, old pal. I'll look after you. I'll never 
leave you. (Goppinger links him with his arm, and leads him, 
sticking close to him. Muggles' legs limp, and his general ap- 
pearance is crestfallen. At the door he turns, but catching 
Tom's eye — as in ACT I. — collapses, andexeunt door L. 2 E.) 

Merv. I can scarcely believe my eyes and ears, and I — 

Enter Priscilla, Emily and Ernest quickly from door R. 2 E. 

Pris. (r. c.) What is this ? Miss Smith not gone yet ? 

Fanny, (rises and comes down C.) No. And strange as it 
may appear, Miss Smith doesn't mean to go. Emily, dear — 

Emily. (R. comer) Shameless young woman, don't look at me. 

Pris. Learn, young woman, that the object of your indelicate 
attacks is not the catch you imagined. He is ruined. 

Fanny. Possibly /may be able to avert the calamity. / pos- 
sess a little property. 

Tom. (aside) Halloa ! 

Emily. Keep it, madam. We'll all starve together rather 
than owe anything to a person who — who — 

Fanny. Gracious me ! what have I done so dreadful ? Mayn't 
a wife embrace her husband ? (Mervyn rises and comes 
down L.) 

Emily. Don't know. I never had one. Besides, poor old 
dear, he's not your husband yet. 



PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 49 

Fanny. Explanations are tedious things, but sometimes indis- 
pensable. Hear ! (oracularly) Once on a time — 

Merv. I .-., , . 

Pris. [ 0h . 'aw! 

Fanny, (resolutely) Once on a time — 

Tom. (l. C.) That's twice on a time — go on. 

Fanny, (goes to Tom) You're more used to this sort of thing, 
so perhaps you will — (sits up L. c. Mervyn seated down L. 
PRISCILLA at R. corner of table. EMILY 7iext to her. ER- 
NEST R.) 

Tom. {goes at back 0/ chair L. 0/ table in a barrister fashion) 
It seems, my lud, that a certain relative of the plaintiff left a 
somewhat ridiculous clause in his will, forbidding his heir to 
marry before a certain age, without an elderly relative's consent. 
The heir in question did marry. 

Pris. (excited) No ! Impossible ! It's not the fact ! I — 

Fanny, (rising in the manner of the court usher) Si-lence. 
(sits again.) 

Tom. But concealed the fact ; and after having separated 
from his wife on a question of wounded pride, being naturally 
a — a — 

Fanny. Obstinate. 

Tom. I'm obliged to my learned friend for the adjective — 
" obstinate " but they met by accident five years after at the house 
of the elderly relative in question. 

Merv. What ! 

Pris. Thomas ! 

Emily. Tom ! 

Fanny, (rises, comes forward a little, with legal air) A — 
Brother Gilroy will permit me to add that the wife, feeling her 
property an encumbrance (seriously) and a bar to her domestic 
happiness, wrote only this very day, in fact less than half an 
hour back, to her man of business in London, instructing him 
to sell out everything without delay, and place the entire sum 
realized at the disposal of her new found cousin, Mr. Mervyn, 
(coines and takes Mervyn's hand, then back to Tom), so that 
her husband may come back to her without the slightest pang of 
wounded pride, and with the knowledge that it will be upon his 
industry, his talent and success, that she in future must most 
properly depend. (gives TOM her hand.) 

Tom. My darling ! 

Pris. (comes down R. C.) Emily, we've been making fools of 
ourselves, (goes up and gets round to L. c.) 

Emily, (coining R. c.) Oh, Fanny dear, do please forgive me, 
You know appearances were so much against you. I thought 
you were fond of Ernest, and that would have been so very 
dreadful. 



So PARTNERS FOR LIFE. 

Fanny. Yes, it would. 

Ernest. Thank you. 

Merv. {to TOM) But I'm in the clouds, {puts chair L.) 

Tom. Keep there till we've settled your affairs for you. 

Merv. I can't take her money. I — 

Tom. It was hers, then it was mine, and now it's yours. 

Merv. Never ! 

Tom. Then you part a loving couple once again. Fanny, 
farewell forever, {going L.) 

Merv. {stopping him) No, no ; stop, you impetuous fellow. 

Fanny. As we can never be re-united, Tom, good-bye, every- 
body, {going R.) 

Emily, {stopping her) If you go, I'll — I'll never marry Ernest. 

Ernest, {crosses to R. C.) Oh, hang it, don't go. 

Merv. I don't understand it all, but I'm in your hands. And 
Fanny here — 

Tom. {embracing her) She's in my arms. 

Fanny. Oh, Tom. 

Ernest, {embracing Emily) There, I can't help it ! 

Emily. (R.) How can you ? 

Merv. Confound it, boys, let it go round, {embraces PRIS- 

CILLA) 

Pris. It's all a mystery. 

Tom. I'll make it clear. 

But first to solve a greater mystery here, {indicating 
audience) 

Our partnership for life again commences, 
We come on you, though, for the law expenses 
Paid thus — by note of hand — your answer ? Yes. 
Then we may count our future a success. 





PICTURE. 




Fanny. 




Tom. 


PRISCILLA. 




Emily. 


Mervyn. 


CURTAIN. 


Ernest. 




UNCLE TOM'S CABIN (NEW VERSION.) 

A MELODRAMA IN FIVE ACTS, BY C/IAS. TOWN SEND. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS. 

Seven male five female characters (some of the characters play two parts). 
Time of playing, i\i hours. This is a new acting edition of a prime old favorite, 
so simplified in the stage-setting as to be easily represented by dramatic clubs and 
travelling companies with limited scenery. Uncle Tom's Cabin is a play that never 
grows old ; being pure and faultless, it commands the praise of the pulpit and sup-, 
port of the press, while it enlists the favor of all Christiar s and heads of families. It 
will draw hundreds where other plays draw dozens, and therefore is sure to fill any hal . 

Synopsis of Incidents : Act I.— Scene /.—The Shelby plantation in Kentucky.— 
George and Eliza. — The curse of Slavery. — The resolve. — Off for Canada. — " I won't 
be taken — I'll die first." — Shelby ?nd Haley. — Uncle Tom and Harry must be sold. — . 
The poor mother. — "Sell my boy!" — The faithful slave. Scene II. — Gumption 
Cute. — " By Gum !" — Marks, the lawyer. — A mad Yankee.— George in disguise. — A 
friend in need. — The human bloodhounds. — The escape. — " Hooray fer old Var- 
mount ! " 

Act II.— St. Clare's elegant home.— The fretful wife.— The arrival.— Little Eva.— 
Aunt Ophelia and Topsy — " O, Golly! I'se so wicked!" — St. Clare's opinion. — 
" Benighted innocence." — The stolen gloves. — Topsy in her glory. 

Act 111. — The angel child. — Tom and St. Clare. — Topsy's mischief. — Eva's re- 
quest.— The promise. — pathetic scene. — Death of Eva. — St. Clare's grief. — " For thou 
art gone forever." 

Act IV.— The lonely house. — Tom and St. Clare. — Topsy's keepsake.— Deacon 
Perry and Aunt Ophelia. — Cute on deck. — A distant relative. — The hungry visitor. — 
Chuck full of emptiness."— Cute and ihe Deacon. — A row. — A fight. — Topsy to the 
rescue. — St. Clare wounded. — Death of St. Clare. — "Eva — Eva — I am coming " 

Act V. — Leeree's plantation on the Red River. — Home again. — Uncle Tom's 
noble heart.—" My soul ain't yours, Mas'r." — Legree's cruel work. — Legree andCassy. 
—The white slave.— A" frightened brute.— Legree's fear. — A life of sin.— Marks and 
Cute. — Anew scheme. — The dreadful whipping of Uncle Tom. — Legree punished at 
last. — Death of Uncle Tom. — Eva in Heaven. 



THE WOVEN WEB. 

A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS, BY CIIAS. TO fVNSEND. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS. 

Seven male, three female characters, viz. : leading and second juvenile men, so- 
ciety villain, walking gentleman, eccentric comedian, old man, low comedian, ltading 
juvenile lady, soubreue and old woman. Time of playing, 2 l 4 hours. The Woven Wed 
is a flawless drama, pure in thought and action, with excellent characters, and pre- 
senting no difficulties in costumes or scenery. The story is captivating, with a plot 
of the most intense and unflagging interest, rising to a natural climax of wonderful 
power. The wit is bright and sparkling, the action terse, sharp and rapid. In touch- 
ing the great chord of human sympathy, the author has expended that rare skill 
which has given life to every great play known to the stage. This play has been 
produced under the author's management with marked success, and will prove 
an unquestionable attraction wherever presented. 

Synopsis of Incidents: Act I. — Parkhurst & M inning's law office, New York. 
— Tim's opinion. — The young lawyer. — " Majah Billy Toby, sah ! "—Love and law. 
— Bright prospects. — Bertha's mi fortune. — A false friend. — The will destroyed. — A 
cunning plot. — Weaving the web. — The unseen witness. — The leiter. — Accused. — 
Dishonored. 

Act II. — Winter quarters. — Colonel Hastings and Sereeant Tim. — Moses.— A 
message. — Tim on his dignity. — The arrival. — Playing ;oldicr. — The secret. — The 
promise.— Harry in danger. — Love and duty. — The promise kept. — " Saved, at the 
loss of my own honor ! " 

Act III.— Drawing-room at Falconer's.— Reading the news.— "Apply to Judy ! " 
— Louise's romance. — Important news. — Benha's fears. — Leamington s arrival. — 
Drawing the web.— Threatened.— Plotting.— Harry and Bertha.— A fiendish lie.— Face 
to face.—" Do you know him ? " — Denounced. — " Your life shall be the penalty ! "— 
Startling tableau. 

Act IV. — At Uncle Toby's. — A wonderful rlimate. — An impudent rascal. — A bit 
of history.— Woman's wit. — Toby Indignant. — A quarrel. — Uncle Toby's evidence. — 
Leamington's last trump.— Good news.— Checkmated.— The telegram.— Breaking 

the web. — Sunshine at last. ^^_ 

%&~ Copies mailed, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of the annexed prices. JA 



SAVED FROM THE WRECK. 

A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, BY THOMAS K. SERRANO. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS. 

Eight male, three female characters : Leading comedy, juvenile man, genteel 
villain, rough villai I, li^ht comedy, escaped convict, detective, utility, juvenile 
lady, leading comedy lady and old woman. Two interior and one landscape scenes. 
Modern costumes. Time of playing, two hours and a half. The scene of the action 
is laid on the New Jersey coast. The plot is of absorbing interest, the "business" 
effective, and the ingenious contrasts of comic and serious situations present a con- 
tinuous series of surprises for the spectators, whose interest is increasingly maintained 
up to the final tableau. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Act I. The Home of thk Light-house Keeper. — An autumn afternoon. — 
The insult. — True to herself. — A fearless he irt. —1 he unwelcome guest. — Only a 
foundling. — An abuse of confidence.— The new partner.— 1 he compact. — The dead 
brought to life.— Saved from the wreck. — Lesjal advice. — Married for money.— A 
golden chance. — The intercepted letter. — A vision of wealth.— The forgery. — Within 
an inch of his life. — The rescue. — Tableau. 

Act II. Scene as before; time, night. — D-»rk clouds gathering. — Changing 
the jackets. — Father and son. — On duty. — A struggle for fortune.— Loved for himself. 
— The diviled greenbacks. — The agreement. — An unhappy life. — The detective's mis- 
take. — Arrested. — Mistaken identity. — The likeness again. — On the right track — The 
accident. — "Will she be saved?" — Latour's bravery. — A noble sacrifice. — The secret 
meeting. — Another case of mistaken identity. — The murder. — " Who did it ? " — The 
torn cuff. — "There stands the murderer!" — " 'Tis false ! "—The wrong man mur- 
dered.— Who was the victim ?— Tableau. 

Act III. Two Days Later. — Plot and counterplot. — Gentleman and convict.— 
The price of her life. — Some new documents. — The divided banknotes. — Sunshine 
through the clouds. — Prepared for a watery grave — Deadly peril. — Fatherand daugh- 
ter. — The rising tide. — A life for a signature. — True unto death. — Saved. — The mys- 
tery solved. — Denouement. —Tableau. 

BETWEEN TWO FIRES. 

A COMEDY-DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, BY THOMAS K. SERRANO. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS. 

Eight male, three female, and utility characters: Leading juvenile man, first and 
second walking gentleman, two light comedians (lawyer and foreign adventurer), 
Dutch and Irish character comedians, villain, soldiers; leading juvenile lady, walk- 
ing lady and comedienne. Three interior scenes; modern and military costumes. 
Time of playing, two hours and a half. Apart frL.m unusual interest of plot and skill 
of construction, the play affords an opportunity of representing the progress of a 
real battle in the distance (though this is not necessary to the action). The comedy 
business is delicious, if welt worked up, and a startling phase of the slavery question 
is sprung upon the audience in the last act. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Act I. At Fort Lee, on the Hudson. — News from the war. — The meeting. 
— The colonel's strange romance.— Departing for the war.— The intrusted packet. — An 
honest man. — A last request. — Bittrr hatred. — The dawn of love. — A northerner's 
sympathy for the South. — Is he a traitor ? — Held in trust. — La Creole mine for sale. — 
Financial agents. — A brother's wrong.— An order to cro^s the enemy's lines. — For- 
tune's fool. — Love's penalty. — Man's independence. — Strange disclosures. — A sha- 
dowed life. — Beggared in pocket, and bankrupt in love. — His last chance. — The re- 
fusal.— Turned from home.— Alone, without a name — Off to the war. — Tableau. 

Act II. On the Battlefield. — An Irishman's philosophy.— Unconscious of 
danger. — Spies in the camp. — The insult. — Risen from the ranks. — The colonel's prej- 
udice. — Letters from home. — The plot to ruin. — A token of love. — True to him. — 
The plotters at work. — Breaking the seals. — The meeting of husband and wife. — A 
forlorn hope.— Doomed as a spy. — A struggle for lost honor. — A soldier's death. — 
Tableau. 

Act III. Before Richmond. — The home of Mrs. De Mori. — The two docu- 
ments.— A little misunderstanding. — A deserted wife. — The truth revealed. — Brought 
to light.— Mother and child. — Rowena's sacrifice. — The American Eagle spreads his 
wings.— The spider's web. — True to himself. — The reconciliation. — A long divided 
home reunited. — The close of the war. — Tableau. 

%£T~ Copies mailed, postpaid ', to any address, on receipt of the annexed prices. _Jgt 



nent.— Introduces the PickwTclc 


Club, 


Alfred Tingle, Mrs. Leo Hunter, 


Lord 


Allen and Bob Allen. Bob Sawyer 


, Mrs. 


Weller, Stiggins, Tony Wel'ler 


, Sam 



NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. 

THE JAPANESE WEDDING. 

ime pantomime representation of the Wedding Ceremony in Japanese high life. 
The company consists of the bride and groom, their parents, six bridesmaids, and 
the officiating personage appropriately called the "Go-between." There are 

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AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 

A Literary and Dramatic Dickens Entertai 
the Wardles of Dmgley Dell, the Fat Bo 
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THE GYPSIES' FESTIVAL. 

A Musical Entertainment for Young People. Introduces the Gypsy Queen, Fortune 
Teller, Yankee Peddler, and a Chorus of Gypsies, of any desired number. The 
scene is supposed to be a Gypsy Camp. The costumes are very pretty, but 
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THE COURT OF KING CHRISTMAS. 

A CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENT. The action takes place in Santa Claus 
land on Christmas eve, and represents the bustling preparations of St. Nick and 
his attendant worthies for the gratification of all children the next day. The cast 
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RECENTLY PUBLISHED. 

ILLUSTRATED TABLEAUX FOR AMATEURS. A new series of Tableaux 
Vivants, by Martha C. Weld. In this series each description is accompanied 
with a full-page illustration of the scene to be represented. 
PART I.— MISCELLANEOUS TABLEAUX.-Contains General Introduction, 

12 Tableaux and 14 Illustrations. Price, 25 Cents. 
PART II.— MISCELLANEOUS TABLEAUX.-Contains Introduction, 12 Ta- 
bleaux and 12 illustrations. Price, 25 Cents. 

SAVED FROM THE WRECK. A drama in three acts. Eight male, three 
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BETWEEN TWO FIRES. A comedy-drama in three acts. Eight male, three 
female characters. Time, two hours and a half. Price, 15 Cents. 

BY FORCE OF IMPULSE. A drama in five acts. Nine male, three female 
characters. Time, two hours and a half. Price, 15 Cents. 

A LESSON IN ELEGANCE. A comedy in one act. Four female characters. 
Time, thirty minutes. Price, 15 Cents. 

WANTED, A CONFIDENTIAL CLERK. A farce in one act. Six male 
characters. Time, thirty minutes. Price, 15 Cents. 

SECOND SIGHT. A farcical comedy in one act. Four male, one female charac- 
ter. Time, one hour. Price, 15 Cents. 

THE TRIPLE WEDDING. A drama in three acts. Four male, four female 
characters. Time, one hour and a quarter. Price, 15 cents. 
IW"A ny of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address, on receipt 

of the annexed prices. _££$ 

HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St., New York. 



HELME 

ACTOR'S MAKE * % }*~W?toi 

ttcitt and Systematic Guide to the Art <■/ Making uj> /or ike Stage. 



SET ° F C0 NGRESS 

■ill 



PRICE, 25 CENTS. 



With exhaustive treatment on the Use of Theatrical 
Wir.s avd Beards, The Make-upand its requisite materials, the 
different features and their management, typical character 
Masks, etc. With Special Hints to Ladies. Designed for the 
use of Actors and Amateurs, and for both Ladies and Gentle- 
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CONTENTS. 

I. Theatrical Wigs. — The Style and Form of Theatrical Wigs 
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II. Theatrical Beards. — How to fashion a Beard out of crepe 
hair. How to make Beards of Wool. The growth of Beard simu- 
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III. The Make-up — A successful Character Mask, and how to 
make it. Perspiration during performance, how removed. 

IV. The Make-up Box. — Grease Paints. Grease painti. in 
sticks; Flesh Cream; Face Powder; How to use face powder as a 
liquid cream ; The various shades of face powder. Water Cos- 
metrque. Nose Putty. Court Plaster. Cocoa Butter. CrSpe Hair 
and Prepared Wool. Grenadine. Dorin's Rouge. "Old Man's" 
Rouge. "Juvenile" Rouge. Spirit Gum. Email Noir. Bear's 
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V. The Features and their Treatment. — The Eyes : blind- 
ness. The Eyelids. The Eyebrows : How to paint out an eyebrow or 
moustache ; How to paste on eyebrows ; How to regulate bushy eye- 
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Ears. The Nose : A Roman nose ; How to use the nose putty ; A 
pug nose ; An African nose; a large nose apparently reduced in size. 
The Mouth and Lips : a juvenile mouth ; an old mouth ; a sensuous 
mouth; a satirical mouth; a one-sided mouth; a merry mouth ; A 
sullen mouth. The Teeth. The Neck, Arms, Hands and Finger- 
nails : Fingernails lengthened. Wrinkles: Friendliness and Sullen- 
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VI. Typical Character Masks. — The Make-up for Youth : 
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VII. Special Hints to Ladies. — The Make-up. Theatrical 
Wigs and Hair Goods. 

Sent hy mail, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of 'the price. 

HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 

9 Murray Street, New York. 



